Life of a Robin
by Lucky's Girl
Summary: A series of one-shots based entirely off of a given prompt. Mainly staring Tim Drake along with Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson, the Teen Titans at times, and an assortment of other random and unexpected characters I'm sure! It follows no particular timeline or true story arc, just an assortment of ideas and other arcs put together. Dedicated to Aggie Holmes!
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note- So this fic is going to be an collection of completely random one-shots. Before you go any further, I know some of it isn't canon to the shows/comics/ect it has been taken from but it's a private interpretation and timeline for the characters. This chapter is also the only one likely to not be in Tim Drake's perspective, all others are his. It's just an intro chapter.

That said, each chapter will have a prompt italicized that is then written up, if anybody has a prompt they'd be interested in reading about or seeing what could come of it, just send it in a review and I'll get right on it! Thanks for Reading!

Dedicated entirely to Aggie Holmes, she also came up with the better half of these stories!

Disclaimer- I don't own the characters or the universe, nor the prompts.

* * *

_Your character has had enough and decides to speak their mind to their boss. What do they say and how does the boss react? Are they glad to have it out of their system, or do they regret it later?_

"And do it quick!"

Dick Grayson gritted his teeth, fists clenched as the manager slammed the door behind him. What had even possessed him to take this nine-to-five anyways? A grocery store? One that got held up more times than not! What had he been thinking?

Yet this manager was down his throat for being late all the time? What was he supposed to do? Well he would thank him if he knew he saved his _life_three days ago. But of course… he 'didn't' do that. 'Dick Grayson' didn't do anything spectacular with his life. He went to college, spent time with multiple girls, and while generally likable and pretty good-looking if anyone asked him, there wasn't anything special. It was only 'Nightwing' that did those things.

And he sure as hell wasn't paid for it!

He really hated secret identity's sometimes. Why should he have to take that? You know… he shouldn't! What was the worst he could do? Give him time off? He'd enjoy it! He wasn't _that_ broke and nine bets out of ten he could get an even better job! One with a better manager and people not scowling at him for the high prices of  
potatoes every ten minutes.

Dick turned back around, knocking loudly on the door, straightening up as the manager opened the door, eyebrows raising up, a glare being sent his direction.

"_Somehow_ Grayson, I **doubt**you finished that quick."

"No, I didn't. It's not in _my _job description to clean out the restrooms! I'm a cashier."

"It's in your 'job description' to do whatever I tell you to, pretty boy."

"No, it's not and I'm _not_doing it!"

"Oh, okay then," The manager said, nodding his head. Dick had to wonder… could it really go that easy? "You're _fired_, you no good, _slacker_."

Dick blinked slightly as the door was slammed in his face, standing there for a moment, looking around like someone would open the door and tell him that of course he was joking!

But nobody did and he looked around before pulling the apron around his head, balling it up before throwing it at the door, grabbing his backpack from behind the counter, storming out of the front doors.

"You should just stick to being a vigilante, Nightwing," The smaller boy snickered, he looked over at his spiky haired younger 'brother' with a slight scowl, who was tossing a batarang up into the air before catching it.

"Says the rich boy!" He said snippishly, leaning his head back on the rest of the chair, groaning. He needed a new job… but how could he had figured he would fire him! So he was late… alright, he was late most shifts… and he knew he was too good for the job… but that was a reason to just fire him? Well he could find another cruddy job anyways… This was why he couldn't go the civilian life.

"I wasn't always rich you know."

"Yeah, yeah, don't you have bad guys to catch or something?" He tossed over his shoulder as the boy tossed the batarang too high and it stuck into the cave. Yup, Bruce would love that when it fell later, probably with terrible timing into evidence or something. Hopefully he was there to see his face, but with his luck today he'd miss the old man getting annoyed! Oh well, couldn't yell at him for it if it went that way. He used _Nightwing_… stuff… even if it was based off of Bruce's designs. It was still _different_.

"No, I'm avoiding homework."

"You're a super genius…" How exactly should he avoid homework? What would it take him two minutes? He was in high school already! A year early, and he was complaining. Wait until he had to get out in the _real_ world and… wait, was he being competitive with a _twelve_ year old? Yeah… today was just going **great**.

"No. Just a genius, there's no such thing as a super genius Dick."

"Shuddup Tim."

Tim laughed again and he frowned, hitting his head on the chair's back. He was doomed! It was too bad good looks didn't get you anywhere when you got your boss angry… he hadn't even yelled that loud… he'd given Batman ten times more anger when he finally quit the Robin gig… stupid grocery store…

Tim was right… he should just stick to being a vigilante!


	2. Chapter 2

_Your character is thinking back to when they were younger. What did they want to be when they were a kid and how does that compare to what actually happened in their life? Do they wish that things had gone the way they wanted when they are little, or are they glad that they changed their mind as they grew up? How did those childhood dreams shape who they eventually became?_

The edge of the pencil tapped quick and loud against the table, hitting the same spot repeatedly, unknowingly to the holder. Headphones blared out the rest of the world, the pencil, homework, and grandfather figure included.

"The old me is dead and gone…"

A short swat to the back of his head jerked him out of his daze, shoulders straightening, spine pin straight as he flipped the pencil around in his hand so he could grip it properly, sharp edge away from him, wrist turned in the best position to jab out. Until he took in his own stance and felt himself growing a little warm, embarrassed as he looked up at Alfred.

"Sorry, Al," He muttered, slowly setting his pencil down on the table next to the half done work, taking out the ear buds still playing the song that had distracted him.

"Young master, you've been sitting here an hour and you've yet to finish your work."

"I know," He said, grinning a bit sheepishly at him. It wasn't hard, the work, he just wasn't focusing well today.

"All the 'I knows' won't excuse you tonight if you don't get it done."

His eyebrows came up some as the elderly man walked away, dish rag still in hand. Tim watched after him before spinning back to his homework; checking how much he needed to get down, before glancing to the old grandfather clock. Both to see how long he had until Bruce was home and as a reminder he needed to be able to go out tonight.

As he finished up the last problem, I-pod still forgotten to his left, pencil tip dulled from the algebraic equations lined across his paper… he stopped to smile to himself. Alfred always knew how to get him motivated without even trying.

Tim sat back, setting the pencil down so he could gather up his papers and double check it was all finished. While it looking mostly done would pass by one of Bruce's expectations, he did want it to be finished and get the good grade for it. Homework was important… just not as important as what he needed to do tonight!

Which was the bust they'd been staking out the last three nights. Tim double timed it up the broad, old fashioned staircase, jumping up when he was nearly there to fling himself up off the banister and down the hallway, an enthusiastic grin stretching across his face as he rolled back up to his feet, not even a corner bent on his homework.

"No shenanigans on the staircase, Master Tim!"

He grinned wider, letting out a breath to calm himself down. But the rush of adrenaline still had him making a fast pace to his room, stowing the papers in his notebook (admittedly a little unorganized) before he made his way back down the staircase, through the house, past Alfred with a reminder to be on time for dinner, behind the clock, and down to the colder, secreted part of where he lived.

The Batcave.

Tim smiled, looking around it, wandering past the different souvenirs. He'd been meaning to make it over to the computer and pull up the profiles, double check everything while Bruce was at one of his press conferences. So they knew for certain, see if he couldn't pick up something they might have missed…

But his distracted mind returned and he ended up standing in front of the row of glass cases, all holding different suits. Batman. Robin. Batgirl. The second Robin. His…

Tim reached out and set his palm against the shock of cool glass.

His suit. His title. His chance. His home. It didn't seem so long ago right now that he'd stood here for the first time, in awe that he's calculations had been right, that he was seeing all this, but more in awe that Dick and Alfred where practically handing it to him.

Because now… Tim Drake was Tim Drake Wayne… and he'd never been happier in his whole life. Never had so much. Tim didn't mean in the physical way either, not that he didn't fully appreciate clean, new clothes, food anytime he wanted it, a sturdy great place to live, good school, and pretty much anything he wanted given to him if he asked.

He did… but he meant the other side of things. He meant Bruce, Alfred, Dick and Barb. His dog Ace even… this. This suit… the purpose it gave him. To truly deserve the name Wayne, to not be a Drake.

When he was a kid, growing up with his father… he never would have thought this. Not even when he was a little kid and his mother was still alive. When he thought about being all sorts of things because he was fairly smart, definitely idealistic as a little kid. But after that, when he was living just with his father… he'd conceded, admitted that even if he wanted to have a dream life, he wasn't going to get it. Tim wasn't from that part of society, some nights he wondered if he wouldn't end up like his mother, like hundreds of other people all over Gotham city, end up like his father's associates usually did. Dreams wouldn't matter much then.

Now… now though, Tim could do anything he wanted, with real ease. He'd just have to work for it a little, and even so, not like how he used to. Just to eat back then was harder than one of those big dreams was now. But his dreams had shifted too… instead of a normal job, something stable, he wanted this.

He wanted to be Robin, be at Batman's side… fight for the people who were like him… be the idol and hope Batman and Robin had always been to him. He upheld that to people he couldn't reach out and help everyone physically all over the city, so he was in some way… and he was helping… truly helping people. Their lives, the way they lived… all of it.

Tim wouldn't change this for anything… and he definitely wouldn't take it for granted. He already knew far too well what his life could look like…

"Did you finish your homework before coming down here?" A dark, brooding voice spoke out, interrupting the silence in the cave. So distracted Tim didn't even hear him coming down the stairs. Pretty rare on his part.

"Yeah, I did," He said, nodding to the older man as he walked over to the computer. Tim followed after him, smiling at his back. But he really needed to stop being distracted now! They had work to do and Bruce was already pulling up the profiles.


	3. Chapter 3

_Your character at their first game. It can be baseball, football - anything really. I don't think it's possible for any one to forget their first game._

"Come on, we've got to hurry here!"

"We'll miss the game."

"Tim… I understand you're not in the know… but you _can't_watch a baseball game without a hot dog."

"Yes you can…" He started, getting cut off almost immediately.

"So naive," Dick sighed, but Tim just let out a sigh and agreed with his terrible logic. He knew he was just sitting here wasting time arguing with Dick, he'd get Tim to do it in the end anyways. Go on about how this had to go properly and be great, since it had been brought up a week ago that he'd never been to a ballgame before.

Dick then launched into a mini-rant, justifying himself from blame and pinning most of it on Bruce. Of course… Tim  
had tried to bring up that all of his arguments made no sense at all. Dick just came back at him with more about his baseball game experienced and how they were essential to every boys life.

He did love Stephanie… but couldn't she think of those sorts of questions at better times?

Say… when Dick wasn't in the room to overreact to such a simple thing. He'd seen unofficial ballgames before, played in plenty, but apparently those didn't count. Not with Dick anyways. This counted and he dragged him all the way out here to see Dick's favorite team play since Tim had admitted he didn't have a favorite.

So he left his jacket to mark their seats, moving carefully out of the row and then back down the staircase leading into the inner portion of the baseball field. It took longer than anybody might expect to get back to one of the built in food vendors. This close to the game, Tim had expected there to be barely any people, but everyone was ordering before the game anythings, loud, pushy, and anxious to get back before it started.

This all seemed like a colossal waste of time… Tim wasn't even that fond of hot dogs! But he wanted to let Dick feel like he'd accomplished his mini-mission of making Tim have a proper ballgame so he went along with his delusions.

It couldn't hurt anyways, and what was the worst that happened? He didn't see the beginning? Honestly he'd be just fine with it. From where they were sitting in the stands, it all looked pretty much the same as far as Tim could tell. Most people were paying more attention to the screen overheard getting close ups than the actual field…  
Seemed you could just have stayed at home and watched from the living room.

"Alright, let's get…" Dick had started to say as they walked away from the hot dog booth, but he was interrupted by a short scream. Both boys jerked their heads to the left, experienced eyes looking for the problem.

They looked at each other quickly before making their way towards it, spotting the problem. A thug trying to steal a group of girl's valuables. Dick and Tim launched into action, dropping the thugs without looking like they were experienced crime fighters… just two guys enjoying a ballgame, lending a hand.

Both nodded and by the time Dick stopped flirting with the ever grateful woman, Tim found himself looking at his watch, nothing the game had to be nearing at least the first three innings over with. Tim started to turn back onto the staircases when there was a tug on his shirt sleeve.

"What?" He found himself asking Dick, who was staring at him expectantly.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to the game…"

"We **can't**Tim, I told you! You need a hot dog for this to be proper!"

Tim started to open his mouth to tell him that was crazy. That the game would be well over half way done by the time they got back to the stand. That it wasn't a normal game anyways because they had to take a break to fight crime, where they lost their hot dogs to the floor. Those and a good ten other reason he could tell Dick he was being illogical…

But Tim let out a sigh and looked back to Dick.

"Alright, Dick."

"Great!"

Tim smiled wryly as Dick put an arm around his shoulders, talking about how they really wouldn't have missed all that much because the beginning of the games were always boring and the same, a bunch of people running around a diamond. Tim didn't point out that that was the entire game but… as long as they were enjoying themselves… there was really no need to pop Dick's bubble. Tim would enjoy the time with him being excited over something that wasn't a girl or his amazing skills either way.


	4. Chapter 4

_Pretend your character is the exact opposite of who they are now. How does this affect their friends and families, the important events in their lives? Do they lose someone they love dearly? Or is it for the better?_

Tim Drake ran at a fast pace, weaving through the streets of Gotham City. Anyone that didn't know them inside and out would have tumbled into a dead end, tripped over one of the piles of garbage stacked throughout the city, a bench, people, anything, but he moved with a knowing agile speed through the crowd, dodging any obstacle.

All without losing the back pack of food he'd just stolen out of that monthly farmer's market in the park square, an attempt to bring the 'natural' back to Gotham.

What a joke. Just look at the place, while it felt like home to him, most people looked at the smog filled, overpopulated, crime riddled Gotham City with a sneer or a slight, suppressed shiver. Unless you were the well to do business people, moving around like the people in the middle class, the poor class, the class that didn't have a class because they were too poor and likely bums on the street.

But that worked just fine by Tim, it meant nobody gave him two glances. It all lead up to him not being seen or having to worry about unwanted light cast on him. It made his life easier, he could steal what he needed to, pull what he had to pull, without having to triple check over his shoulder. As it was he always looked twice.

That was one thing his old man taught him that wasn't something he'd argue with. To always look at it twice. Check twice, glance twice, and always look twice if you were missing some opportunity.

It was pretty much the only sound advice his father had ever offered him, but Shifty Drake wasn't really a great role model to start with. Drunk most days, gambled every cent he had, and ran Two Face's dirty work. So… of course as his living son, Tim was roped into and more importantly expected to run the game too.

At first when he was a kid, it almost bothered him, especially the more obvious things, that effected people. Bothered him a little that he felt like he had more potential in him than petty thievery for a psychotic, bi-polar man…  
But Tim had gotten over that within a year or two. Now he knew that… well life didn't work that way. Even if you were smart, charming, or any other trait, you were cast into your lot in life. His lot was these second rate mobsters, scared of a bats shadow or a coin landing on the wrong side. Police didn't even mean anything in this city.

Even now, every criminal in Gotham City, ever stunt puller, every heist was, willingly or not, thinking in the back of their head about the infamous Batman. Sometimes people laughed and kids thought that maybe it was a joke.  
But it wasn't. Tim knew that, he'd tracked him. When he was a kid he was obsessed with Batman. Not obsessed but he followed all his activities, tracked his launch against crime with the boy wonder Robin.

It'd been excited and a challenge, a little sport and interest in the otherwise dark and glum world that surrounded him. It didn't take long for Batman to turn from a bit of a idol figure to the same, menacing threat ever thief, assassin, or wrong doer felt he was for Tim. It had been after all his ideas for himself and when he realized this was just his life.

It wasn't the best life, but eh, it was living.

"Finally," His father's beer-lathered breath made his nose protest and he ducked away and let him snatch the bag out of his hand. It was okay, he had eaten some on his run over here and there was a sandwich crammed into his left back pocket. He definitely didn't rely on what was in the bag anymore. Too many chances you lost it, or his father took it from him and did whatever it was he did.

Tim wasn't going to starve off of faith in outside sources alone. Instead he made his way to his room in the beaten up, tattered down apartment in the lower side of Gotham. Usually he didn't, ended up having to hear about something his father had to say, a job that needed doing, or something like that.

Apparently it would come later in the night though, Tim was glad for the trade-off. Right now his mind seemed full and he laid out on his bed, folding his hands behind his unruly hair to stare up at the familiar cracked and leaking ceiling.

Tim's thoughts were strangely still on the bat. It felt like to him, that after his sidekick was killed in that warehouse, he lost a certain rightness in his actions. Maybe that was what Tim had shied from when he was dealing with his father's expectations. Because he had enough going on in life, that searching out and watching his childhood hero falter in a way, without Robin by his side, it seemed darker. Like Batman had needed Robin or something.

Tim let out a slight laugh to himself, sitting up on his bed. Yup, pondering the universe again in his leaky bedroom. He never really did change, but he couldn't help himself, had to do something with his brain in his free time and the school work was easy enough on its own. He tugged the mushed ham sandwich from his back pocket, blue eyes glancing to the door once to listen for his father before pulling off the ceran wrap and taking a hungry bite from it.


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note-_

Same prompt from last chapter, different run of it!

* * *

_Pretend your character is the exact opposite of who they are now. How does this affect their friends and families, the important events in their lives? Do they lose someone they love dearly? Or is it for the better?_

"I am…" An light, uncertain voice trailed off.

"Scared?" Offered the green boy, eyes wide as he stared across the room.

"No… worried…" The alien said softly, clasping her hands together in front of her as he hear tilted along with Beast Boy's for a moment.

"Oh. Well I'm scared! It's obviously a zombie apocalypse!" Beast Boy shouted, arms flailing slightly as he pointed across the room. Because it was obvious! Look at… well just look!

"Scans don't read un-normal… except for that shift." Cyborg said, looking down at the states scanning along his arm.

"Maybe it's Larry again," Raven suggested, thinking herself that it was the most logical explanation. There was no mind control, no manipulation, she could sense no strange magic done. Besides, a shift like that could be dimensional… and why not? Almost anything seemed a more reasonable explanation than what they were watching.

"Listen, you! It's not my fault!"

The Titans leaned closer to each other, Starfire's hands clasping tighter, turning her orange toned skin white, Beast Boy's eyes widened to the size of melons, Cyborg's mouth fell open, and Raven drew her robe tighter around her.

"I can't help it she dumped you… okay, okay, you dumped her, sure. I'm likeable! What do you want from me! No I don't have a girlfriend!"

"Um… friend Robin?" Starfire spoke up, braving what the other Titans leaned back more from. But Starfire couldn't see that perhaps if they intervened, the strange, odd, striking behavior from their fearless leader might turn on them.

From waking up and rummaging the fridge, to cooking a soufflé and shipping it in a box, then ordering pizza and eating the entire box of it on the couch…

Well that was just the beginning.

Robin had blared loud, punk inspired music across the outside training course, blindfolded himself and started doing all sorts of odd, dangerous moves, while laughing. Then asked them if they liked Maroon 5… and then started singing songs.

Singing. Robin. The most serious of the group, always a kind word or a sensible thought… was singing. Like… not humming along to a song. More like, in the shower singing your heart out under the belief nobody could see you.

It was weird… and strange…

And now the strangest of all? Some randomly procured cell phone had come out and he'd flopped(Robin flopped) onto the couch, muddy boots from training up on the couch as he answered a call and kept calling whoever it was a dick (They wouldn't go into the vulgarity spilling from his mouth during the songs, Beast Boy and Starfire didn't need to hear it all again…) Raven was the only one to figure out that the person's name must be Dick.

Now he was talking to somebody else! An quite frankly it left them all standing around stunned… and just a little frightened.

"Hahahaha!" Robin laughed, lighter than Cyborg would think his voice could go. They all jumped startled, Raven's powers destroying something in the kitchen. "You're crazy, you really are!"

The Titans looked down at their friend, Cyborg straightened up to… to go stop him maybe? Do something! It was… something had to be done! He was second in command, sorta, he didn't want to be right now! But he had no choice.

Then… as Robin put the phone down and jumped up (Beast Boy decided bounce was a better word for it) declaring they should play some basketball, Cyborg's scanners beeped again and he looked down.

"It's that frequency again guys!" He declared, pulling up the stats for it… but just like before, as soon as he tried to link into it… it disappeared. "It's gone."

They looked around, trying to see what had happened this time, but all they could see was Robin's serious face coming over, frowning down at Cyborg's scanner?

"What's wrong? Maybe you should check another frequency."

"Robin!" They all shouted!

"Um… yes?"

They all laughed, jumping forward to hug him (Starfire dragged a now embarrassed Raven) glad the frightening happenstance was over!


	6. Chapter 6

_One of your character's relatives makes an unexpected (and unwanted) visit. Why are they there and how does your character react to their sudden appearance? Does he try to be polite while subtly hinting that this isn't the best time for them to have visitors? Or does she flat-out tell the relative to go away?_

_"We get any leads yet Batman?" Tim Drake asked as he walked towards the oversized computers, freshly changed into his normal clothes. He preferred civvies, but that was just a preference and very much in light of his excitement of the last few months being the newest Robin at Batman's side._

_"No, they're hiding."_

_He nodded, not that it was picked up by Bruce, but it wasn't meant to, more of an acknowledgement for himself. It was sort of the way things went on around here, but no one would ever catch him complaining._

_Didn't matter as soon he was wrapped up in the readouts Bruce had going, fingers gliding along the edges of the paper as he brought it up closer to his face, trying to decipher The Riddler's latest hints. They'd already estimated they had four days but… well, that was never very long in these sorts of things._

_"Master Bruce, there is a man requesting your presence in the foyer."_

_"Not the time."_

_"It seems urgent."_

_"Who?"_

_"I'm not entirely certain."_

_"I'll be right up, Alfred," Bruce grumbled, fingers hitting harder into the keyboard before pushing from his chair. "Look at these readings."_

_"Sure thing," He said with a nod, curiosly glancing after Alfred to the staircase. He looked after Bruce, but his curiosity of their mysterious visitor was put to the side as his eyes caught something on the read out and he leaned forward in eargerness to see if his new suspicion was correct or not._

_He'd had it before, but it had seemed slightly foolish so he didn't want to bring it up to Bruce until he was sure of it. This reading though… might shed some new light to the brief glimmer of a previous thought._

_Eventually though, the lead he'd guessed at only led to one small thing, but he'd make a note of it for him anyways. Sometimes the smallest things were just enough to tip the balance and give them just what they needed._

_It had been some time since Alfred had called for Bruce though and Tim looked around, earlier curiosity springing to the forefront of his mind. He doubled checked everything around the cave before starting his way up the many steps that led to the house part of their dwelling._

_He slipped outside of the secret entrance, closing it quickly, glancing around to assure himself no wandering eyes had seen him slipping out. None had, so Tim relaxed and started to quietly walk away from the room, ears straining for the conversation that must be going on in the foyer to have kept Bruce from coming back down, especially when it was such an important thing._

_"He's my boy an ya got no right to keep him here!"_

_A hard shiver ran up his spine and his feet froze as a mind numbing panic rose irrationally in his chest. Blue eyes widening, he jolted with a start and threw himself behind the nearest doorway, pressing himself into the wall, breathing in and out quickly, assuring himself… that… he must be hearing things!_

_"That there is my son and I want him down here now."_

_His knees felt weak suddenly as the voice of Stephen 'Shifty' Drake poured out even louder, the panic replaced with a hard pit, sinking in his stomach. No… no, no, no, this couldn't be happening! He was dead! Two Face had gotten him! Tim lived here now!_

_He wanted to chance beating it back down where he'd just come from, shove the clock open… just slip back down into the dark, safe passageway of the Batcave. Seemed like an odd thing to think safe, a life as a vigilante, but Tim could have his metaphors how he liked them. It didn't effect anyone else._

_More importantly… Tim Drake didn't exist there, Robin did… and… and his father couldn't be here! He… he was, that he had to face, could hear him ranting down the hallway… but Bruce, he wouldn't let him take Tim away…_

_"Let us try to maintain some civility…"_

_"No, you listen right good…"_

_"He's going nowhere."_

_Bruce's words, his commanding tone sent relief pooling into him and he managed a weak smile as his breath let out and he sunk down to the floor, nails digging into the fibers of the carpet. There… there it didn't matter… Bruce was firm on it and… he was a billionaire, there was no way he couldn't… make it happen._

_Even the rest of the ranting, his father's daunting voice… seemed lighter, almost like he could go down there(Not that he would, no good in chancing anything) and face it if he knew he was staying here…_

_Then the relief turned cold in his blood and Tim stared across the wall, to the picture of Bruce's long since deceased parents…_

_"Master Bruce… it's all here in the paperwork… there's… there's nothing we can do…"_

A strangled, silent gasp tore through his chest, eyes darting around the dark room, straining uselessly to settle on something. The only thing that was clear, were the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and back, making his shirt stick to him, and the sheets balled up in his still clenched fists.

But soon reality shifted over Robin and he turned his head from side to side, adjusted eyes making out the sparse furniture in his clean, organized room. His alarm clock casting a red glow into the room, announcing it was the middle of the night and the only thing that was possibly waking him was his own sub-conscious.

Robin let go of the sheets, an impression left behind from his where his hands had gripped tightly. He moved his legs over the bed, leaning one elbow on a knee, his head resting in his hands as he ran a hand through his damp hair.

It took a few moments of assuring himself he was firmly in Titans headquarters, that he was on a completely different coast, that those things had… never happened, ever. Weren't real, just a concoction of his sub-conscious, telling him some out of tune message. Expression unconscious thoughts or fears… none of which were real.

Eventually his assurances calmed him down and the panic released his chest so he could breathe steadier.

What had that even been about?

Clearly he remembered the details… they still has his stomach tied up slightly in uncomfortable knots. But… that had never happened, it wasn't real… in fact, it was the farthest thing he could imagine. His father had died after crossing Two-Face and he certainly was never taken away or threatened to be from Bruce.

He took himself away but it was beside the point at hand…

But that point seemed to make it even stranger that he was dreaming about them, some dream where he was worried or scared about being taken from them, that life. He lived that life one hundred percent these days… but… then again, he hadn't been Robin in the dream, just Tim Drake…

It still didn't make any sense, but Robin decided a nice shower and a long work out might distance himself from it. Might make it fade from his mind. It didn't have to have a meaning… he tried to make it have a meaning… but some things were just dreams and it could really be just that simple.

As he grabbed his mask, slipping it over his eyes and took one of his suits from his closet, hands wrapping around the gloves… he decided it was just that. A dream that could stay packed away without any necessary meaning…

Then again, since when had Tim been good at letting go of things?


	7. Chapter 7

_Write a story about your character in the kitchen. Is he an expert cook? Or does her food preparation skills end with making peanut butter sandwiches?_

He stood there. Just stood there… not entirely sure what he should be doing… completely. Except stare in awe at the pantry he had open, eyes traces over the many shelves and shelves and shelves of canned goods.

It was a like a grocery store in here! In a house! Though if this counted as a house, well he'd be surprised. It was the biggest place he'd ever been inside and… well, his father had taken him inside the National Bank of Gotham once to scope it out.

But Tim hadn't even looked in the fridge, just peeked shyly into the pantry and got lost staring at the large amount of food. Cans towards the bottom shelves, boxes along the top and just bags of things around here and there, big jugs of oil and specialty drinks were below the shelves it was… well it was…

He had no words for it! It was amazing, and they could _eat_all of this! Tim would be more skeptical of it except for the food he'd eaten in the last three days since he got here. Nine years old and Timothy Drake hadn't eaten that much in any of his memories. Ever.

That Alfred guy sure was really, really nice… it was all sort of strange, in this unbelievable way. That Bruce Wayne would just… take him in and keep him here. For free, no exchange of services, nothing he wanted or anything, he was even going to make him Robin! Just because he'd been smart, figured it out and… all of what Tim thought was just luck.

But he was sure not going to argue it!

"Master Drake, is there something you would like prepared?"

Tim's head snapped around, body jerking instinctually away from the pantry from being caught, leaning against the island that was in the middle of the large kitchen. But, he leaned away from it a bit sheepishly, realizing he wasn't going to get in trouble here. But could anyone blame him?

Shouldn't have been snuck up on either… but he was in awe looking at all that. More in awe as his brain caught up with him. It took a while for what Alfred Pennyworth was _saying_to catch up with him(Though having to be patient with the way he kept addressing him distracted Tim as well).

But prepare? What was really going to happen here? He'd just been looking, not asking! There really had to be some kind of catch here because it was just too…

Well it was all too easy. Just one step after the other, easy and suddenly it was _plush_ too. None of those things Tim was used to and he found himself just shaking his head slowly at Alfred, wondering what else to do… or what _he_should do… since nobody had asked him yet or made any sorts of signs.

"Can I help with anything?" He decided to simply ask. Since… well they were all too nice here! Tim wasn't incapable of doing things for himself, and even so… they were being more than amazing to him… more than he could possibly think up… Tim wanted to be able to **do**something for these two, who were just… pretty much changing his entire life around.

"If you would like, certainly," The elderly man chuckled slightly, walking around the island, motioning for Tim, and moving towards the cabinets, pulling out pots and all this other stuff. Guess they meant it when they said he was butler, but Tim was just glad he'd agree to let him do something.

Couldn't just sit around and do nothing in return.

But… somehow even helping got turned around to being useful to Tim! Or, well, maybe not entirely useful, but as he'd started to do things, well… Tim started asking questions. He'd only asked two, wondering if it was too much, but before he knew it there was a chair pulled up to the stove and Alfred was teaching him how to cook this meal. It was pretty simple, sorta, it seemed simple once Alfred laid it out for him.

There was _so_much food though!

He was lost in a swirl of laughs and chuckles, dumping cans over clumsily and picking them up, going through processes and asking Alfred about the differences between light and dark kidney beans, the spicing he was talking about, what, where, any of it! He never seemed to get annoyed with him either, just seemed to enjoy Tim's curiosity…

"That is it, we just need to wait for it to cook."

"Really? That's all? Tim asked, looking around for something else to do. It got another one of Alfred's chuckles and Tim hopped off the chair, pulling it back to the table to push it under the table before turning to look over at the man, smiling at him.

He'd never spent that much time doing… nothing. Well he did a lot, but there wasn't any thinking involved, just fun. It seemed like it had all just passed in a blur of warm, good food and… he smiled, before going over and shyly hugging the man.

"Thank you," Tim muttered meaningfully, for… for all of this. Not just the place to live, or the food, but just… him… spending time and… well all of this! Tim couldn't understand still how this was his life.

"Oh… oh not at all, Master Tim…"

He looked up with a sudden smile to him, arm coming away as he looked over his shoulder a moment later. Guess he was gonna have to get used to being called that since he was stubborn about it (He'd learned that lesson the other day for sure).

"Now run along, I do believe Master Bruce was expecting you around six and it's ten til."

"Okay Alfred," He said, smiling at him, despite his mop of hair getting in his way as he turned to go search through this huge place to go find Bruce.


	8. Chapter 8

_What is the most unusual object decorating your character's home? What is the story behind its acquisition? Does it stand out from the rest of the décor because she normally has a neutral or classical style, or is it part of a generally unusual environment? Does he love it, or is it on display because of sentimental value, in spite of its appearance?_

He had finished his homework, finished his meal, and Bruce had to actually go to one of those meetings he never seemed to be able to actually make. But Gotham was quiet tonight, or they hoped it would stay that way. Either way he was still grounded, not in the usual sense, hadn't lost any privileges… except the important one, which was being Robin.

A week out of the suit for not paying enough attention the 'finer' things in life, as Al put it. But Bruce had agreed he wasn't doing enough in school so here he was stuck on not being able to do it. Which was metaphorically killing him, Tim just didn't feel right when Batman went out on his own. No back up, no help, and… well of course he missed it too.

It'd been half a week though and Tim signed up for some after school activity, just to pacify Alfred and Bruce. He'd spoken to Al about it, who thought that was an acceptable way to get off his 'punishment' so to speak.

It was Bruce he needed to talk to it about. So he could be officially _off_ hiatus. It was a pain, it really was. But he'd had to get called out and ready for his meeting before Tim could bring it up so he'd decided to wait in here until he returned. Maybe waiting outside the entrance to the Batcave would invoke, or at least convince Bruce a little that Tim was going to be stubborn about it.

So he hoisted himself up on the desk that was pretty much just a decoration in here, never used. Bruce rarely used his actual desks and when he did it was one in another room than this one that he liked more. But this room's uses were purely for their vigilante life. The portrait of Bruce's parents hanging huge and almost ominously on the wall, a silent and nearly unspoken vendetta and the old grandfather clock set against the wall on the far side.

To the naked eye… it matched the rest of the well to do, clearly wealthy household. As any manor owned by a multi-billionaire's home was expected to look. It was styled masterfully, kept up in shape and to Alfred's credit, didn't have much dust collecting on it at all. Once upon a time… Tim would say, that it probably _was_ like any other thing in this house. Rarely used, a waste of space, and mostly for show.

But not these days, these days it held its own purpose. To hide what happened during the night, so they could do what they needed to, what was right, and still not have anyone get hurt. So Tim sat around, watching the clock, contemplating all the meanings behind it and their cause… waiting until Bruce got home so he could agree Tim could get back to being Robin for the rest of the week already.


	9. Chapter 9

_Aliens have landed! What do they want? Are the good or bad? Is your character scared of them, excited to meet them, or angry that they've ruined their day by crashing into their front lawn?_

He was frustrated he couldn't make the shot with this flip. It fell too short and as hard as he could, it just couldn't get closer to where he needed it to make that sort of landing. But he knew he could so the inaccuracy was a bit annoying. Could be more…

"Watch it to your left!" Dick Grayson, his in a way brother, was shouting out loudly. He jerked his hands to the left and dodged the incoming plasma destination grenade with a flip up towards a lamp post and a jump onto a roof top. He'd slipped twice on the way up, again a bit frustrating. Especially since Dick managed to get up there quicker than he could.

But going around on the ground wouldn't do them any good. It was complete chaos. The sky was a dark grey, pierced only by search lights from above choppers for survivors and the eerie green glow letting any looking to the skies that the ships the invaders of their home were hovering just above the clouds, nightly cover.

If they made it to daylight it'd be a miracle, but they just had to reach the end of the city and they'd be safe. Looking at the sky was probably the least likely way to realize something was going on, it was clear in every single way from the street flooded with aliens of some evil intent, and the fires that were burning the buildings as far as the eye could reach, turning the nightly sky an angry red color, the grey, clouds standing out against it.

Tim ran along with Dick over the rooftops, the safest way, blasting aliens that were attempting to climb up the sides of the buildings to get to them, and jumping around and had to melee the ones that dropped from their sky born space shuttles.

"Ahhh! No, no, no! Shit! I'm hit!"

Tim's head jerked to the side to stare at dick, hands jerking backwards before looking around to see what he was talking about. But he was hit, nearly critically and he took out the remaining too targets with a combo jump and taking them out with his weapons.

He turned back around, trying to see if he could find some way to fix it… but another enemy showed up and he turned around quickly, pushing out but… but… it was too late, somebody else had snuck up on Dick and… a wordless shout left his brother and he ran over to take out the target Dick couldn't handle with his weakened life and looked on as he saw him fading out… and… no!

Dammit! This couldn't be happening! Not now… not now when they were so close… he couldn't die! He couldn't!

"Damn you Dick!" He shouted a bit crossly, letting out a defeated sigh as he leaned back in the seat he'd been in this entire time, looking as Dick threw his to bounce off of the entertainment system.

"This is not my fault!"

"It is your fault! We were nearly there! Three more rooftops and we would have beaten the level!" Tim exclaimed looking over at him hopelessly, how could he not see that! Now they'd have to go back through the entire street fight with mobs of aliens on a timer _again_! Tim set down his controller… telling himself it was just a game but… oh, he did this every time! Convinced Tim to let him play and talk about how great he was and then ruined his score!

"Well it's a lot easier in real life than in a video game!" Dick declared, muttering about a unevenly stacked game and getting up to depart from the room. Tim let out a sigh again, waiting a good amount of time for Dick to have waked far enough away from his room before he clicked retry and leaned in determined over his remote as the first wave of aliens came at him again.


	10. Chapter 10

_Your character has to wear something silly, embarrassing, or just completely not them. What is it? Why are they wearing it? Are they kind of excited about it, or are they just waiting until they can take their uniform/costume/funny hat/matching t-shirt/etc. back off?_

"Cyborg… what are you doing with a dress?" Robin said, voice dipping low as he got more and more perplexed. "And Beast Boy… is that a rubber chicken?" He asked a bit exasperated at the extremely weird stuff the two boys were bringing into the house. He didn't want to sound like a jerk in front of his newly formed team but… he was seriously confused…

"Just be glad you can't read minds," Raven spoke up as she entered into the room with Starfire. Glad… yeah… okay what was going on here? Because Starfire was coming in shouting that she had found a glorious, hideous head of pink hair… and she was right… she'd come in holding a pink wig with bangs, stretched by some strands between both hands like she wasn't entirely sure what to do with it.

"Okay what's going on?" He asked, hands settling on his hips as he looked over at the two boys snickering to each other. Cyborg had turned out to be a lot more fun when he wasn't brooding over things (not that Robin didn't have loads of experience with deep, angsting brooders or something, but he was ignoring those thoughts) and Beast Boy was a lot less… well, annoying, once he cut out the 'sir's'. Both pretty likeable guys but… he was almost worried that he'd asked.

"You've done it now," Raven muttered, pulling a book off of the newly minted shelves in the main room here to take with her as she sat down on the half circle couch. When he'd decided to put his money to good use… well he put it to good use anyways.

"Well, see Robin, the T-Tower,"

"We're not calling it that," He sighed, they'd been bickering amongst themselves the last three days about what they would call the new Tower they'd just created, and while all they could manage to do with the crashed spaceship was turn it into enough scrap to make it into a, well T. Thus the name Titans, which he liked, Beast Boy won with the Teen bit, and it was a bit catchy once he thought on it enough.

But a giant T on an island was bad enough without calling it the 'T-Tower' but he wondered if that was just his past experiences making him more bias.

"Anyways, getting to the point, BB and I know one thing!"

"Giant, cool tower," Beast Boy listed.

"New team!" Cyborg said, and Robin couldn't help but think a little cynically that was two, but he'd told himself he was turning a new leaf with this team thing and being cynical with the happy go lucky spirits they had wouldn't get him much credit

"Initiation!" Beast Boy shouted, causing Starfire to burst into clapping, though Robin wondered if she knew what for, and Raven glowered quietly from behind her book.

Robin looked between the two now grinning boys, Starfire hovering up behind them… and his masked eyes slowly slide to the things in each of their hands piecing together what they were saying…

"_Oh_ _**no**_," He spoke up quickly, putting his hands up in front of him and shaking his head. "No, no, not happening."

"It's tradition!"

"In a college group maybe," Robin said a bit exasperated to find some common sense to get the idea out of their head. He didn't want to be the stooge of the group but he was not wearing that! But they had these gleams in their eyes, and Robin knew them far too well. Many 'brothers' later after all.

"C'mon!" Beast Boy half whined, before leaping up on the arm of the couch, flapping the fake chicken around. "We all have to wear… these three things," He paused to yank the pink, short, dress from Cyborg's hand and the pink wig from Starfire to wave all three around to them all. "For… a whole day! Or we can't be on the team!"

"This is ridiculous," Raven said into the silence after Beast Boy's proclamation, standing up stiffly from the couch where he was waving a chicken suit too close to her for her liking. Robin just put his hand to his forehead, trying not to grin at the sight of it all…

"I understand an initiation but… can't we just, do an oath or something?"  
"That'd be boring!"

"BB's right, Rob."

"Oh, fun please!"

Robin looked between the three, eyes sliding over to Raven who was giving dirty looks to it. Right… initiation. But… new start right? Well… what was more of a new start, with absolutely nothing like his old team like juvenile pranks and ridiculous, embarrassing clothing?

"Okay," He said with a slight chuckle, before smirking a bit towards Beast Boy. "But _you're_ going first since it was your idea."

"What!" Beast Boy shouted and Robin took part in laughing with the others.


	11. Chapter 11

_Your character decides to make a grand entrance into a random bar/tavern. How does that go? What is she doing there? Why did he enter that bar? Where is this tavern? Who else is in there, or with your character?_

He was walking towards the bar at a quick, clipped pace, he wasn't letting himself think about what he was doing, just knew that he'd be doing it and that was the end of the story. It was the only idea he could think of and he had to do _something_ to fish him out!

So he walked up to the local, and most popular bar in the city, turning back for momentum before he ran at the doors and flipped upward, before kicking down on the doors, a loud crack whining across the room before the loud echo of the banging doors.

"Everybody! Move now!" He shouted in an authoritive voice, putting enough worry and slight panic in his voice he hoped to make the people get the idea and get a move on. But it was good enough for the people to work, just his shout. Because, unlike before, he was Robin, leader of the Teen Titans and everybody in Jump city understood something was serious when he said it.

It made part of him shy away from what he was doing, which was why he'd had to just go ahead and do it without thinking it over in his head first. Because he didn't like using his right to something, something that he'd earned these people's respect so carelessly. Without proper cause or a real just reason, to ruin somebody's night or any other trickling effect it had.

But he could think of nothing else and the idea of Slade getting away again was driving him crazy. So he stood in the entrance, stepping against the crowd of slightly panicked people. Soon enough the room cleared out and Robin walked slowly, steel tipped toe boots hitting evenly against the floor as he walked over to one of the still righted stools sitting at the bar to sit down at it.

Now he had to wait… wait to see if his trap lured out Slade. The slight hidden message that might pique his interest, or at least make him curious enough to send somebody else, anne up what part of his plan could possibly be. So that Robin could stop him before somebody got seriously hurt.

He had… failed so far. He couldn't keep one step ahead of Slade, so much so that he had to injure and fight against his own teammates just to keep them alive and safe. Yes, sure he managed to outsmart Slade, trick him into forcing his iron clad hold over the Titans go but… what about next time?

Everyone seemed just fine to say it was in the past, that it hadn't happened and it'd be fine. That Slade couldn't pull that trick again and they'd know what to look for next time. That _**was**_ the problem though… the one he felt like only _he_ was looking at. _Next_ time it wouldn't be the same trick, they'd all be just as off guard and something… something might seriously happen to one of them. Then it would be his fault, the blame would square firmly on his shoulders… he would have failed.

A small, distant insecurity rose up and did funny thing to Tim's stomach. That maybe… he wasn't cut out to be Robin. He'd always known he wasn't as good as the others, that he could never compare to Batman… but… after all Bruce had said… as angry as he was about it and as much as he could say outwardly he didn't agree?  
Inside… it hurt… and inside he had to wonder… was Bruce right? He'd done this for so many years, he was a smart man… was he just too full of himself and his bravado to think straight? To see that… perhaps he didn't have the _skills_ required to keep dawning the suit…

Movement outside caught his attention and her jerked upwards, hand sliding down to a birderang, pulling it out quietly as he pulled away from the stool and the bar to walk towards where he could hear something moving outside. It had just been a brief snap of something hitting into the side of the building… but Robin had caught it, despite letting himself start to wallow in his thoughts…

He stepped outside quickly, moving near silently around the walls of the bar to see what was happening. There it was… he could see somebody on the other side of the wall… tacking something onto it, what appeared to be trying to find a discrete way to look inside.

His trap had worked… it was set and he was about to catch them. Robin pulled the birderang up close before clicking the device active, letting out a shout as he hurled it towards his opponent, maybe even Slade. It went three fourths of the way there before rope shot from its sides, attempting to ensnare whoever it was.

They jumped up away from the building and his device, dropping whatever it was they'd been messing with near the wall of the building. He jumped forward at the right moment, only a few feet away from the person who Robin had no doubt Slade sent forward. He jerked back as Robin brought his staff down on his head and kicked at his side. It stung but he continued to move quicker, making sure he breathed the way he needed to before he ended up swinging his staff up around his head, kicking his foot out only to miss as expected and then brought the forgotten staff down on the man's shoulder blade.

He let out a wordless shout, crumpling down on the ground and he tossed his bo to the ground in lieu of picking the guy up to shove against the building, breathing coming out heavily and fierce. He stared from behind his mask at the person, trying to see anything familiar as he dragged him across the building into the light…

But… he hissed a bit under his breath as he realized it was just one of Slade's drones and the familiar and entirely irritating beeping made his eyes widen and he threw away the robot before kicking up and away, doing a backflip to ensure as much distance as possible as he was thrown backwards into the ground from the force of the explosion.

Dust blew from the concrete wall, a good size dig into the side of the building as Robin looked around for anymore danger… or any clues to Slade. But he found none and he let out a frustrated noise, hitting the ground hard with a fist as he stood up quickly, scooping up his bow to flee the scene, swearing he'd get him next time…


	12. Chapter 12

_Write about first big snow of the year – how does your character spend the day? Is your character excited or annoyed to see the streets covered in white powder? Do they get out of school, or do they just have to be extra careful driving to work that day? Do they get to go play with their friends and go sledding, or do they want to stay inside to keep warm drinking hot cocoa beside the fireplace?_

He let his teeth chatter for a moment, just for the motion so it would distract him. It was cold outside, his luck, or perhaps a bitter irony, the first snow of the season was falling down around him, making thick, white layers out of dirty Gotham's streets, and attempting to flatten his hair before the wind tussled it more than it was normally.

Tim raised up his insulated gloves, rubbing them against his cheeks to warm them up. Always glad for those… on stakeouts mostly, but… here too. At this moment as he stood literally and metaphorically on a line drawn in the sand, except… it was suddenly much more daunting when the sand was his entire life.

It was just the last straw… that fight… yes they'd been fighting quite a bit lately, Bruce and he, but some of the things he said. Well, in the dark gloom of nightfall, high pressure winds blowing in every different direction up on the rooftops of Gotham, they chilled him more than he'd let them back at the warm, comfortable mansion.

So he'd packed up his belongs, slipped into his suit and ducked out the window, making sure he didn't get noticed in any of the high tech security features Wayne manor was privy too.

Now he stood out here on the roofline, not entirely sure if he'd decided to go through with it, or if it was a rash, impulsive decision. It couldn't be entirely, Tim had been briefly thinking on and off about it over the last two weeks. Since this… issue, about whether Bruce would 'let' him continue being Robin or not came up.

It was serious thoughts, but the actual action seemed… different. Colder.

"Well," A voice purred loudly over the stormy night, vanishing somewhere over them, lost to the wild winds but still audible in its first muttering. "What's have we caught way out here? A bit off of your normal patrol route."

Tim turned his head cheeks stinging at the flakes of cold snow hitting into the side of his face with the wind as he looked at Selena, dressed in her normal Catwoman attire. Out on a night like this though? Not really her style… though, with a brief smile, he realized it probably had most everything to do with him being out here and that there was no coincidence in the matter.

"Hi," He said loudly over the wind, but it still came out almost softly over it. She walked up next to him, smiling once at him as she leaned against the edge of the building, crossing her arms over it and daintily placing one hand over the other, claws brushing against the cement of the rooftop.

He copied the motion, more roughly of course and turned so he could lean in more to hear her. They talked chit chat for a while, falling into gaps of silence when the wind got to harsh, but as it lulled more into a stop… and Selena asked him what had him out here and away from the 'nest', it all came spilling out of him. All the fighting with Bruce, what happened when he'd disappeared(Which she already knew), the terrible feeling that had boiled up inside of him with the realization he could lose the one thing that truly made him feel… right. Doing all of this.

Talking to her though… getting it out in the open air, lost to everybody but them and the swirl of angry Gotham weather, he came to the realization that this was the right path for him now. When he had no other clearly correct… and as daunting and, admittedly frightening as it seemed? Tim was ready… he had to step up, had to fight and stick with what was truly important to him… despite what things had happened or who didn't feel like he ought to.

He could _feel_ it was right, that he needed to keep doing this… and only he could really know what was his own correct path, right? That's what Alfie had said… and he always had the best advice. But it was also good to have somebody to talk to, who cared for him and understood situations enough that it didn't get complicated or messy…

He looked down to the cement building, brushing the snow with his glove, off the ledge to tumble towards the ground before the wind caught it.

Tim was surprised to see Isis leap down from her perch on the rooftop to rub against the side of his arm with her head once, tail wrapping up around his shoulder to brush along his cape slowly before she circled around slowly and returned back to Catwoman's side, the woman's finger stroking the soft fur on top of the cat's head, causing a purr to sound just faintly over the howling winds of the Gotham night.

"Keep in touch, stray," Selena said, her clawed hand suddenly on his right shoulder. He glanced down from underneath his mask once at it before looking over to her with a slight smile as she squeezed his shoulders just slightly once.

"Yeah, I'll try," Tim promised, he would try anyways. Life was about to get… unreliable and spontaneous probably. So he'd try and keep her in mind, of course he would, but Tim wasn't going to make an empty promise he could.

"Come Isis, time to continue our _prowl_ elsewhere," She half purred in her, somehow normal way as the cat slinked up her shoulders and Catwoman took a dip off the edge of the roof, spinning and flipping her way safety to the ground before taking off as quick as her namesake through some back alleys and out of sight, snow covering over any tracks she might have made in a matter of seconds.

Tim looked out into that cold, furry and frowned more to himself as he looked down where he'd been standing on one of the rooftops on Gotham's outskirts. Guess that meant it was time to move on… it was still a bit beyond him as he did it, jumping down from the rooftop in a flourish of dark and flaps of yellow blurred out by flecks of icy cold flakes hitting into his exposed cheeks. Beyond Tim Drake that he was leaving the place he'd called home for his entire lifetime, wherever home happened to be, with his original family, the very streets of Gotham, or Bruce…

But he wasn't going to bend who he was for anything… and if this was the way he needed to do it, then he was left with very few other options. So Tim made his way out, **no**, _Robin_ made his way out into the world, flying the coop truly for the first time.


	13. Chapter 13

_Your character is forced into a family reunion, along with every other member of their family. Is that good? Or would they rather not see some of them? How does it go, what happens?_

Crime was down, which was both good and bad. Good because they were all more relaxed and able to hang out and do whatever. Bad because Robin couldn't help but be suspicious something else must be coming. Some unseen threat lurking in the shadows (while fewer than his usual stomping grounds) of Jump city. Some menace plotting away while they let their guard down. It didn't sit well with him, though his teammates didn't seem very concerned.

But there was a certain amount of attitude that came along with being a first time super hero. He didn't want to say cocky because it sounded rude but… it was true enough. He had before, knew plenty about it. All his other teammates were new to being superheros. Even Raven, their most conservative member didn't feel like if a threat popped up… the Teen Titans might not be able to take it down.

Robin knew from experience that… sometimes things could go drastically wrong. That if you weren't on your toes, people could die, things could be destroyed, or you could get hurt yourself. He'd been doing this long enough to know.  
That line of thought seemed undoubtedly appropriate as the alarms sounded off, warning of an intruder on the bottom level. Raven sat up straighter from her meditation, Beast Boy and Cyborg's shouting over their game ceased as their heads turned and Starfire dropped Silky.

"Titans, Go!" He shouted, jumping over the back of his chair, hand twisting firmly so he could land and start his way directly towards the entrance immediately. His boots thumped hard against their smooth floors as he slid into a doorway and darted back towards the entrance, the rest of the team just barely behind him.

They were in the corridor for the door when Robin shifted the pressure of his feet and sunk his steel toe boots into the floor with enough pressure to jerk the rest of him into a silent halt. His head turned slowly to the left, hair falling slightly against his forehead with the sudden motion. He reached up to push the hair back up where he rigorously put it each morning before motioning to the team towards his left, into the room.

He'd heard the window, not the door, and that meant someone was trying to pull a fast one on them. Caught them while their focus went to the front door where their security system had caught on. Strange it didn't alert him to the windows as well. As a well taught thief himself… Robin knew quite a few tricks of the trade which he applied to where they all stayed almost immediately.

Robin carefully crossed into the room, shoulders shifted low in case he needed to dodge out of the way, hand reaching back towards his cape in case it was necessary to guard himself from something being thrown their way in the dark room.

The lights snapped on quickly, Cyborg using his remote access to the tower's processing equipment and light flooded the large room. Robin had already started to shoot forward to whatever he'd caught out of the corner of his eye but upon the lights arrival of what turned out to be three figures, his feet planted hard into the floor. This time, it wasn't with any of his attack style or a hard earned grace for fighting, but shock that planted his feet firmly to the ground.

"Oh you've got to be…" He started low under his breath before a loud, dramatic gasp left Beast Boy followed by a quickly spouted 'oh my gosh'. In stark contrast to Beast Boy's amazed, wondrous surprise, Robin stood there with only dread clenching his gut, gloved fingers slowly wrapping into fists.

"_What_are you doing here?" His commanding voice cut overtop of Cyborg's deeper one trying to ask who they were. Robn's eyes narrowed behind his mask, blazing but unseen. He allowed himself one moment of just thinking that this couldn't be happening, but then the figure in front's mouth opened and he realized it very much could be happening.

"Sightseeing, wanted to see what chumps looked like."

"Not here, Red Hood," Came Nightwing's demanding response, his voice pitched in that higher one he always used when he'd decided he was in charge of something. It was almost a relief to Tim to hear it… because it meant _other_ people were **not** here to _be_the boss.

"How about you take that and…"

"Give it a rest guys," Batgirl interrupted, stepping between them with two yellow gloves hands coming up to their chest levels in a silent motion.

"Who are these guys?" Raven's unimpressed tone brought a slight flicker of a smirk to his face. It had barely begun to show when he drew it back though. _Not_the time.

"You don't _know_!" Beast Boy exclaimed and that pit seemed to reform back into his stomach. Yeah, he remembered now the sir crap and everything… and while Batgirl was sure to find it snicker-worthy and Nightwing would eat it up… Robin wanted them gone as of five minutes ago. No, strike that, he wanted them gone before they showed up!

Speaking of which, why _were_ they here! Why were they showing up in his new home? Not just Dick or Barbara, but Jason too. Jason didn't even _like_him, why was he here! Why where they here? Why did he have suck rotten luck?

But enough wallowing in self-pity… he could straighten all of this out later, and much more easily the sooner he got them out.

"What are you doing here," He repeated in the same authorative tone, so it looked nice and normal for the Titans… or well, as normal as it could be in this situation. It wasn't like Beast Boy didn't already know them and with the absolute_originality_the batclan had… well, wasn't too hard to surmise.

"We've come for... help."

"You've never heard of a phone?" He asked sternly, though in his head he nearly moaned about it. So much easier… a phone call, so much easier for damage control. But a silent alarm went off in the back of his head, he knew Dick pretty well, and usually he didn't hesitate.

"Power has been diverted and knocked out all over Gotham, and it includes communication."

He looked at them, wondering what to do with that for a few moments. Part of him, the first part to respond seemed to jump up to start to figure it out, ask the questions, get up to date, walk out with them to figure out what must be so important they came across the country to find him for help.

But then what felt like the more rational side peeked up and he realized… he just wasn't a part of that anymore.

"That's not my problem anymore guys," Robin said as neutrally as he could. It was just… the way it was and that was that. Robin just couldn't let himself get pulled back into that, even if he wanted to help. It wasn't like _Bruce_couldn't handle it anyways. No need to come interrupt his life.

"I told you all to wait outside."

Tim froze again, thankfully not in the middle of any motions this time. But his stomach clenched up and he swallowed his suddenly dry throat. But as much as he imagined it away, the looming, shadowy figure of Batman was drawing in threw his front window, sweeping to the side as simultaneously Jason spoke up snapping that they didn't all follow his lead anymore and Dick said Jason wouldn't stay behind and they had to follow him.

Robin couldn't even barely focus on those two, instead he looked straight on at Batman, chin rising up some unconsciously as the man walked towards him, cape swirling closed around his boots. He stood his ground, not moving and half praying the second, quieter gasp from Beast Boy was all he heard from his team right now.

"Wait outside," Batman voiced, quiet but somehow commandingly, in the same voice he'd always used, they didn't change still he saw. He stood there and was thankful to see that the three did turn around. Barbara and Dick exchanging glances before heading out the window and Jason stood his ground a moment longer before scowling and turning for his exit too.

He didn't speak up, and thankfully neither did the Titans as he approached Robin, stopping just a foot in front of him, but he did hold his gaze. They stood in silence like that, Robin looking up at Batman and he peering down from behind his cowl.

He held it strong, but the tensions seemed to tear at Tim until he felt like he was going to jump into action, but  
finally Batman's hand appeared from behind his cape, a thick, folded letter held up in his hand.

"Cluemaster's been striking through Gotham City in the past two weeks. He sent this out on the televisions before we went dark," Robin glanced at him carefully once, but took the note, or more like a pad of papers he found a he started to unfold them. His green gloves made quick work of it and Robin looked over the printed out photos of the news report, subtitles on the bottom. "We decided you had the right to see it immediately."

His eyes scanned over the picture of Arthur Brown, aka The Cluemaster. His heart sunk low as he read over the subtitles, flipping through to scan over quickly the next two pages. The pages started to crinkle around the edges where his fingers gripped, eyes darkening behind his mask as he read over the last line again. It could be like all the other times a criminal decided to make Batman out to be the problem that they really where, but it wasn't.

_'And it's thanks to this man that my daughter is dead!'_The subtitles read.

His eyes ghosted over the photo Brown was holding up of a blonde girl with pretty blue eyes, smiling coyly at the camera in a purple sweater. His chest clamped up and Tim crushed the papers between two hands, clamping them together as he crumpled it into a ball.

"Is that all…" He asked in a low voice, looking away from the wrinkled and deformed pages finally. Was there some other reason for coming all the way over here?

"Yes."

His mind numbed momentarily, taking in the set of boots on the floor. His and then Batman's, but as he finally pushed himself to look past that it made more sense to him. Because it turned out Cluemaster was the one blacking out the power… and if Tim wanted he could get in on stopping him…

He shook his head, turning to look away from Batman to the opposite wall, out at the dark night and the sliver of a crescent moon.

No… he didn't want a way to let out stress on a pitiful man who used his own dead daughter to try and get a point sold for him. In the end… he wasn't very much a father to Steph in the first place…

Robin looked up suddenly as a rush of air ruffled his hair and Batman was gone. His face fell a bit as he realized that was all. That he'd come, done his business and then left just as swiftly. Probably already on his way out to Gotham now… back to whatever different way they all got themselves here.

He realized what he was doing though and pushed it away, standing up straight, squaring his shoulders as he walked over to the window to close and lock it. Robin stared out of it momentarily into the dark, as if checking for their departure though he knew well he would never see it.

Robin took in a steadying breathe before turning around to assure his team it was nothing and to avoid all their questions. Just say it had been an overreaction and hopefully get out of a lot of questions. Then he'd go up to his room where nobody else was, because he just needed to be alone right now.

"What was that about!"Beast Boy exclaimed and Robin prepared himself for the onslaught of questions that was sure to bring up out of the other Titans. Easy opening and… it was their home too… just, not something Robin wanted mixing with the now.

"How about… we all just get some sleep and deal with this tomorrow?" Robin's eyes flickered suddenly over to the low, uncertain voice of Raven, head turning along with the others. "We're all tired."

"Sure, good plan Rae," Cyborg spoke up, going along with what she was saying now that it was clear she was saying it for that purpose. The other two nodded and they stood there quietly for a moment before Beast Boy sighed exasperatedly and left the room. Starfire and Cyborg followed suit and Raven started after them too.

Robin looked down for a moment, forgetting what his hand was curled around for the briefest of moments to jog forward a bit quickly to put his arm on Raven's shoulder to stop her. He lifted it off as she tensed and turned her head to look at him slowly.

"Thanks," He said gratefully, sharing a bit of the relief she'd given him just there with as best a smile as he could manage.

"No problem…"

He nodded to her before smiling once again and heading out in front of her to head up to his room. Take a shower... do something else, he'd figure it out. Tim always did.


	14. Chapter 14

_Write a scene featuring the words "I promise I won't tell." What is your character hiding? Who is she promising this to? Why does he have to promise?_

"Cy?" Robin asked out quietly as he leaned into the doorway of the entertainment room, he could see Cyborg leaning against the table with the stereo. From what Robin could surmise he'd say he was pretty anxious still, his hands were gripping tightly and his feet set firmly on the ground, shoulders still squared.

But that was why he'd come to see his friend after all, some guy showed up on the Titans doorstep today and asked for Cyborg. When they'd come down… well Cy pretty much lost his temper. Stepped in and soon enough both men were yelling at each other and Robin had to step in when his friend started shoving the guy around.

He'd been pretty sure Cy forgot his own strength for a minute the way he was pushing at the guy, or he was just that upset about it. Definitely seemed like the latter right now as he walked slowly into the room, still trying to give him some space. Robin was just thankful the other titans were out. Star and Rae shopping and Beast Boy had gone to some comic convention for the day.

"You need some time?" He asked and from the way Cyborg jumped it seemed clear that he hadn't heard Robin the first time he spoke up. His friend looked at him and Robin matched Cyborg's frown to him.

"He hurt?"

"No, no worse for the wear," He said pointing over his shoulder. Robin had pulled them apart and shoved the guy out of the tower when Cyborg started demanding he leave right away. But he wasn't sure if Cyborg just wanted confirmation nothing happened to him, or needed to talk it out to somebody. But there was always the simple way of figuring something out. Ask. "You want to talk?"

"I… I dunno," Cyborg sighed, turning to walk around the couch and drop down into the cushions, robotic arm resting on the couch's side. Robin sighed and it seemed more like a yes to him, besides he could always ask him to leave at any time. So he walked over quietly to the couch, taking a seat next to his friend, resting his arms on his knees as he looked down at the ground with him.

"So who was he?" He asked, just to break the tension Cyborg seemed to be building up around them.

"My father…" He said, a little readily to Robin's ears, so it would definitely seem like he needed to get it off of his chest to somebody, or perhaps he felt like since Robin helped out and was around he needed to clarify for him. Only time would tell…

"I'm sorry," He decided on saying, turning his head to look at Cyborg slightly.

"What for?" Cy asked quizzically.

"Crap timing," He laughed, though Cyborg seemed thrown off a bit by his language before laughing a bit hollowly at that. Yeah, well Robin could understand that was the worst thing. When you were just where you wanted to be and suddenly something came up, dragging you back where you had just risen up out of your head in. Made you go through the whole thing again.

"It's just my damn luck… I told him I never wanted to see him again and not to bother me. But of course he found out I was with the Titans… we've been getting so popular lately. Bet he thought he was all the sudden justified in everything he _did_."

He nodded along, knowing full well Cy just needed to get it off his chest, to spit and spat about it, get the feeling out so he could move past it and not just let it circle around in his head. But he didn't ask any questions or anything he might need to piece things together, it was Cyborg's life and Robin wasn't going to be intrusive. Just here for the ride was all.

"Just because I'm… using this," He said, holding his arms out in front of him and Robin looked over the cybernetic parts that made up the robotics covering a good percentage of his body. "Doesn't mean it's what I _wanted_. But I can't do much else and he just… wants me to prove him right… justify himself for deciding things for _my_ life. It's such a bullshit, selfish move."

"Tell me about it," He sighed heavily, he could practically feel the weight Cyborg had on his shoulders for him. Just from experience and it was dragging him down a bit. He wanted to stay out of it for the most part, just let him vent… but he was empathetic, couldn't really help it and it had already slipped out.

"Yeah right," Cyborg scoffed a little. Robin sat up off his knees, turning at the waist to look at his friendmore.

"No, really, I understand exactly what you're saying…"

"You? C'mon Rob," Cyborg chuckled weakly, shaking his head a bit. "You're not exactly the type."

"You'd be _seriously_ surprised," He said, turning his head to look over at him, looking as serious as could be. Well he would be, but plenty of people might be surprised what hid behind Robin's mask. Metaphors maybe but they were real to him. But Cyborg's words made him realize just how much he was detached from everything in his old life.

How hidden it was when Robin had not one but _two_ fathers where he could relate to almost every word Cyborg had spewed out just trying to get it off his chest.

"Okay, then what's with you?" Cyborg spoke up and Robin could hear the unspoken challenge in his voice. He sighed slightly, clasping his gloved hands together as he looked down at them. He wasn't sure he wanted to speak up about any of it, but if he could help Cyborg with all of this from what Robin had already gone through… why shouldn't he? For some veil of secrecy… they all that problems, and apparently Cyborg and he shared some similar ones.

"Well we could start with the one that abandoned me when I was just a kid, since what good is a kid in a thug life? Or we could go into the long list with my adopted father, and trust me, I _get_ what you're saying about the decisions… I'm half here because of it…"

Robin said all that with a slow nod, looking over out of the sides of his mask to see Cyborg's face. He did seem a bit shock but he chuckled the next moment and shook his head again, rubbing a hand over the top of his human half head as he muttered something unintelligible.

"It's just… embarrassing… huh?"

"Yeah," He said, laughing just slightly. In a way it was, not really because it would be embarrassing to somebody else hearing your story… but that slight… shamed feeling that Robin still could feel lingering some days. That helped him push on even when he wasn't sure about something, because he still had something to prove. That he could be this… it was the same for Cyborg apparently…

"Hey, I don't think the other Titans really need to know about all this…"

"I promise I won't tell," Robin said with a grin towards his friend. But he really meant all of that, and it was a relief to actually get it off of his chest for once instead of keeping it bundled up and shoved into the past. It hadn't ever really been his style before but it was now. Robin refused to become brooding or sulking when there were so many things around right here to hold onto.

'_Some really great friends too,'_ he thought with a smile.


	15. Chapter 15

_Author's Note-_ Happy Birthday to the girl who inspired these stories! Hope this is _your_ best!

* * *

_Describe your character's best birthday ever. Where did he spend it? What did she do? What made that birthday so special?_

He smiled secretively to himself, looking over the date on the clock casually as he went about his way. Even with all of his efforts, Beast Boy had yet to uncover Robin's actual birthday. Of course he'd never entered it into the database, which he would have argued for but they all made it really easy to just skip past his information there.

Mostly because nobody else seemed to jump up for the job to _do_ it. He didn't blame them, it could be pretty boring, but he supposed as the leader of the team that sort of thing got put on him. Being public had its disadvantages…

This wasn't one of them. That he could walk around today, his birthday, with nobody around him knowing his little secret except for him. That was a miracle in itself because Beast Boy had a bit of an obsession with them. Robin didn't know why and he didn't think it was any of his business, but he seemed to be the most determined of all the titans that their birthdays should be celebrated and that it be a happy occasion.

That didn't always work out but they all seemed to be good enough about it. Beast Boy even went as far as to get Robin to give up the month he was born in when he was in one of his better moods and his friend had actually guessed within a week though Robin never told him he had.

That guessed day was when they threw him a little party though, because BB wouldn't have one of them not having a party, even kept it up with Raven despite what had happened. Robin didn't think that was a bad plan though, it was good, progress.

Still it was nice to not have it happen on his birthday. It shouldn't _really_ matter logically, but he liked keeping it private for one reason or another. He wasn't too sure of what they were directly, but it was nice anyways. Maybe because when he got a phone call or two today… nobody wondered who it was because today shouldn't be any day special. Or that he could reflect and enjoy it without the expectations of anybody else and the pressure of a birthday. Good pressure, but still pressure.

Out of all his birthdays, Robin was pretty sure he'd enjoyed the last two and this one the most. These quiet little times where he spent time with his friends without it being forced or put into a different scenario because it was a 'special day'. It was just normal and relaxing, good.

As he thought more on it, pulling a few out of the fridge to begin chopping them up for the dinner he'd decided to make for everybody instead of their usual pizza, he realized that thought… wasn't entirely true.

The obvious answer to his 'best' birthday would probably be when he was with Bruce, Al, and everybody… because they had been mostly the best days of his life in that kind of aspect. But… strangely it wasn't, they were wonderful of course and he'd just been a kid so they were always much more important than later in life like right now.

Surprisingly it went much further back, almost all the way back, to the beginning bits of his memory. Tim couldn't have been much older than four, maybe five… it wasn't very clear what age he was turning but he could remember almost distinctly that his older brother had been there sitting at the table and more clearer was the image of his mother leaning down over the table with a small, homemade cake with a few halved candles sticking up out of it.

The actual order of events wasn't clear like that… but he could remember the feelings with it. He remembered her voice in particular singing happy birthday to him and just the rare, warm feeling clinging to the usually dismal atmosphere.

Robin glanced up out of his thoughts, still holding the stick of butter and the package in his other. His eyes scanned over the rest of the room slowly but Raven seemed to still be reading her book and Beast Boy was rummaging through something.

There was an annoying, clinging tear in the side of the eye that he couldn't reach up to rub away because his mask was on and it'd need taking it off to work. So he set about trying to ignore it as Robin continued pouring and mixing the proper ingredients, half his concentration on the itchy bit of water until it finally evaporated.

It wasn't bad though… and yeah… that definitely stood out in his memories as one of his best… maybe just one of his best moments period. But it always seemed the harder the time period, the less good generally… the more they stood out and meant when it did happen.

Something to keep in mind.


	16. Chapter 16

_Does your character have a guilty pleasure? If so what is your characters guilty pleasure? How did this become something your character enjoys?_

Steel toe boots, Suit, utility belt, cape, communicator, and now gloves were all neatly piled on his bed. In place of them Robin stood in front of the mirror with a comb, wearing simple civies, jeans and a t-shirt and a leather jacket because it was looking pretty cold out there for October. That was one of the benefits of living on the west coast these days… warm. It was always warm unless it was raining. Or super villains made it otherwise, but he meant the day-to-day stuff.

His mask he pulled the bottle of remover out for. He applied some of it on, waiting for a moment before being able to peel his mask back from his face. Seemed a bit of an unnecessary process, but the mask wasn't very big at all and with all he did? Having it fall off in the middle of battle wouldn't be _quite_the look he was going for… wouldn't that be embarrassing?

Next he had to work on the gel that held up his unmanageable hair out so that it could come down properly and the spikes couldn't give him away so easily.

Finally he was satisfied with it, flicked the night side light on so it looked like he was in here and turned to lock his door. Only then did he make his way over towards the window to sneak out of it. Night had just fallen over the city and Robin scaled down the side of Titans Tower before stealing across the lawn before making his way into town.

He thought, as he looked back at it, that it had been a while since he'd gone and done this. Too long perhaps… in fact he wasn't entirely sure if it was a good _or_a bad thing really. In one way it meant he was busy or just having a good enough time he didn't feel the need to go get some space. The other hand maybe it meant he wasn't making time for this sort of thing, for himself.

Once he hit shore, Robin moved along the docks out of sight, in and out of the warehouses until he got to a point he was sure nobody was around and only then did he pull of the sunglasses.

He put them into his pockets and made his way along out in public, blending in with the crowds very easily. It was a private feeling he had started to forget about. In the old days he could and did walk around as just a normal, short for his age guy. Tim Drake could walk nearly anywhere and not be noticed, for the most part anyways. Some places that didn't count for much, but here? It definitely did.

It allowed him to relax more. He didn't have to worry about the looks everybody was giving a public super hero at all times, he didn't have to uphold his persona. If he wanted to… Tim could go over into the street and kick the rain water up, could yell at some jerk who bumped into him, could do any number of things and it wouldn't impact him terribly. Almost forgot what privacy _felt_like being part of that Titans.

This he needed privacy for, not the sort that nobody could hear him, but the sort that nobody that _knew_him could hear him. Because if he missed privacy, he missed playing even more. But he didn't want to have anybody he knew knowing it was him playing, went as far as to construct an alias for it. Though… with the number of aliases Tim had… he shouldn't be so surprised with it.

Still a certain amount of excitement overshadowed his other heavy thoughts as he slipped in somewhere to play for a bit. Let him work out some of these feelings with some music. He'd been doing it for years, ever since he started to learn to play with Bruce, Alfred was pushy of course… it was just something he took to. That really let him get everything out and he had a bit of a talent for. It turned into all this after he left though… turned into something he really _needed_and not just something that was important to him and fun.

Tim would give himself a few hours to relax and just get away from everything before he returned back to Titans Tower and Robin…


	17. Chapter 17

_Author's Note- _Thanks to Guest for the review! I'm glad you're enjoying it and as asked for, I gave you something back before the Titans. I've got one more planned for the Teen Titans that will be out sometime soon, but rest assured after that I'm going to go on a string of prompts with just Tim before he left Batman or before that! So thanks again and enjoy!

* * *

_Something causes your character to daydream. Describe their daydream [as they are reflection of the subconscious and their realization when they wake up/space back in._

_His eyes wandered up the large building and he set his teeth determinedly before he jolted forward, his oversized sleeves flapping against his wrists as he rushed forward, coming to a dead stop just before he ran into the metal garbage cans._

_A child's blue eyes wondered around the alleyway before landing back up on the fire escape. He couldn't reach it, he knew, he was only seven years old after all and that was a far way up for someone like him. But he'd lose them!_

_His eyes roamed over the messy, garbage strewn alleyway and he smiled sharply as he spotted the garbage cans again. He grabbed the metal handle, dragging the overflowing can just under the escape before running around the entire can with his eyes still looking up at the fire escape. Then he grabbed a second one and pushed it towards the first with his shoulder._

_When the sound of ringing metal ended abruptly as he gave it one more push he scrambled up on top of it. His torn sneakers sunk into the pile of black trash bags and he had to stand with his legs spread pretty far to get his feet settled on the rims of both cans._

_From there he crouched down low over his knees and then shot up to catch hold of the bottom bar of the fire escape. It barely moved under his weight and he let out short, panting huffs as he struggled to get himself up on the first bar. After he had himself pulled up to the second one it was much easier to yank his legs up to set up the first one and steady himself._

_He looked out from beneath the black fringe hanging over his eyes as Tim's head tilted down to look at how far off the ground he was. Far! That was all he saw but he didn't feel any fear, just a rush of excitement that pushed him to reach up over his head and pull himself up the rest of the fire escape. His feet hit each bar, shoes slipping twice and he found himself struggling up over the top of the building, hands sweaty and an 'oof' coming out in a hard breath as he rolled over the side, breathing in and out for a moment._

_But Tim didn't rest very long, instead he pushed his small limbs up off the ground and jetted forward again in hopes he hadn't been making this up. Tim really hoped not because the prospect of how to get __**down**__ had never occurred to him and if he was going to have a problem with it… he'd like to have the problem _after_ he got what he'd come for._

_But he didn't need to consider the problem for very long because he saw a whoosh of yellow and black just up ahead of him, rounding around a doorway that lead down into the building he was now standing on._

_Now he was being as quiet as possible, the only sound as he walked was the scrap of his shoelaces as they dragged against the ground around his worn out sneakers. Tim couldn't hear that though, his focus was on keeping his breathing quiet even though it seemed to get louder and louder each step he took._

_Forever was how long it felt to him by the time he reached the raised doorway and wrapped ten little fingers just over the edge, slowly peering out around his hiding spot. There he saw him… Robin! He was standing on the edge of the building, one booted foot on the edge of it, a hand on his hip, eyes skillfully picking up any crime or disruption below in the city streets!_

_But… where was Batman? Tim could have sworn he'd…_

"_Umph," Tim let out as suddenly his fingers were scrapping away from the cement doorway, his feet flinging uselessly through thin air as he lifted up off the ground. He turned his head to see behind him and where his fists struck up to reach around his attack's wrist, they froze._

_He'd found Batman. _

_Or more likely, Batman had found him! Tim looked up into the dark, masked face, two white eyes peering down into his. He could understand how people could be so scared of that face, just looking into them seemed to reflect every dark little secret Tim had, he could feel it creep up into his stomach and his hands flew there to keep them where they belonged._

_Slowly Batman lowered him but Tim wasn't afraid like he _knew_ he should be, no… the fear everyone felt with Batman, even if someone else idoled him and Robin the way Tim Drake did… well he found it only went as far as the mask. If you knew what was _under_ the mask… well somehow it was easier to feel less afraid._

"_What's this little guy doing here?" _

_Tim's head turned as his feet hit the ground, Batman's gloved hand still firmly around his shoulder_; that Tim knew he couldn't shake and he had no idea to try. Robin had come around behind the two of them and was now standing next to Batman's side.

Tim beamed up at them, up at the two people he looked up to most in the world. At the good doers, the ones taking down people who hurt everybody else, who took down the guys in Tim's life in some ways. The two men who he watched on TV at any possible chance, who he clipped all newspaper articles, he'd been so excited and pressing to learn to read so he could understand the bigger words the newspapers used when he was younger!

"I just came here to thank you!" Tim announced with a nod of his head and a grin on his face. It seemed to catch the two off guard and Robin turned his head to look at Batman, who didn't turn from looking at Tim. He couldn't believe this! "Because I can't believe you two do what you do when you could be living life so great, with all that money but you two keep fighting the bad guys in the city!"

"What do you mean by that?" Batman finally spoke up and his voice was shocking. It didn't sound like the things he watched about Bruce Wayne, but instead more like gravel. You could find the voice in it maybe but it sounded like there were rocks over it.

But Tim gave them a shy little smile as they both leaned down more to question him, Robin's face looked surprised and it made Tim grin a bit more… time to reveal what he knew then…

"Two days Shifty! Two days or…"

A door slammed, shaking bits of the decaying roof down around him, covering the floor in some places with white dust. Tim frowned from in front of the television footage of Batman and Robin busting a bank robbery and he pushed up off his feet.

At eight years old, Tim had dealt with plenty of his father's business partners busting into the apartment. Sometimes he was pulled into it but apparently it was short today, sometimes he involved himself to be fair, but he had to do something sometimes and Jim wasn't around to do it anymore.

He'd walked into the kitchen, ducking his head a bit to see around the doorway into the kitchen, but his father wasn't searching the kitchen for liquor and he couldn't find him anywhere he usually was. Not near the blinds checking somebody was gone, not pulling one of the guns and loading it, not talking hurriedly on a phone…

None of that, so when he set around the house, double checking he hadn't gone out to solve whatever the problem was now… he didn't expect to find him. Much less find him in his room, throwing things into a duffle bag, guns, clothes, some crumpled up cash.

"Pops?" Tim spoke up questioningly from where he stood in the middle of the doorway.

"Cash, key, shoes," He continued to mutter and Tim looked around before stepping forward more into the room, half his brain on what he absolutely had to have, the other half on the sound of the zipper getting stuck halfway on the duffle back and his father shoving a thin paper bag into his inner coat pocket.

"Pops, should I pack?" He asked, taking a few more steps forward. He'd barely caught his attention, getting one look before his father's head went back around the room and Tim was half convinced to go pack right now just in case it had to be quick and he wouldn't get time to bring his few things.

"No," He finally spoke up as he was walking around Tim hurriedly towards the doorway. "You stay here."

"Stay here?!" He said, voice raising a pitch as he felt worry making him antsy as he ran after his father. "For how long?"

"Not long, not long," Pops said as he shoved a few things from around the kitchen into his bag and headed for the door.

"You sure I can't…"

"No, no, stay here."

With those last words the door slammed and Tim stood for a moment before running toward the window, climbing up on the counter so he could get a good look down at the first floor and the darkened alleyway they lived next to.

Not long… why'd he pack so much then…


	18. Chapter 18

_Your character is singing - but someone is listening they didn't expect! Does a coworker surprise them by showing up at the same karaoke bar? Does someone overhear them singing in the shower? Did they forget their car window was rolled down? How do they feel about the other person hearing them sing their song?_

He could imagine the whistling in his mind, even if there was none around him to accompany the slow, unsuspecting opening. His fingers danced over the keys of the piano, eyes closing for a moment to think through how the rest of the song went. It came to him a moment later and he kept the slow tune going, adding in deeper tones as he got towards the end of the beginning cords.

It didn't feel like he'd been doing it very long, but before he knew it, the lyrics passing by in his head as he concentrated on making sure the keys all sounded right after being so rusty at playing this song. The Stranger… appropriately named.

_Well we all fall in love  
But we disregard the danger  
Though we share so many secrets  
There are some we never tell_

Tim never realized he was singing out the words as well, just leaned over more, fingers dancing along the keys of the piano. His eyes were closed and he continued singing the lyrics, hitting each key more enthusiastically.

_Why were you so surprised  
That you never saw the stranger  
Did you ever let your lover see  
The stranger in yourself?_

He was just about to move into the breakdown when a sound that, that Tim felt, belonged nowhere near this song or the piano, or him at this moment, broke through. It happened again and Tim's hand stilled on the piano as the slight giggles, more like laughter, persisted behind him.

He closed his eyes. Mortified.

"Oh don't stop just because you know I'm here!"

A slight grown left him unintentionally and he felt like slamming his head down on the keys dramatically to display the absolute embarrassment that this was. He didn't, of course, because that not only would hurt the piano… he'd look ridiculous. More than he did at the moment…

Actually, he was surprised his cheeks weren't more than just slightly tinged with red.

"Steph… what _are_you doing here!" Tim said, turning around in his seat as he finally gathered himself enough to face her. Really, she… oh he was never, ever, doing this again… never.

The blonde girl was leaning in the doorway and her grin slid up more into a smirk. She pushed away from the doorframe and swung her way over towards him. He looked up at her, almost desperate enough to pout at her more than he already felt he was doing by being silent.

"Oh come on, Tim, it was _good_."

At that his cheeks really _did_warm up a lot more. That's what he got for thinking on it… just went and jinxed himself. Stephanie smiled at him and leaned down to peck him on the cheek. Tim swallowed and then tried smiling slightly at his girlfriend.

"So do I get to hear more?"

"No!" He said quickly, standing up and gripping her upper arms to walk her backwards towards the door. "Definitely no."

"Awwwh, but I want to," Steph said with a wink towards him.

"Lets… go… patrol somewhere instead or something…"

"Oh I got you _**bad**_," She laughed loudly, turning to move forward ahead of him, still laughing to herself a bit. Tim looked back at the piano and then to Steph's head with a sigh, but he was also grinning himself this time. Yeah, Steph really had.


	19. Chapter 19

_Author's Note- _Well it got a bit away from the actual prompt, but oh well! Sorry for the long dry spell!

* * *

What is the most dangerous thing your character has ever done or been apart of?

"Eek!" A high pitch yelp left the golden eyed boy as his teammate was throw at his middle, tumbling them both over themselves, tumbling in a pile of failing limps until they hit into the opposite wall. The dust cleared from the hole, two boys emerging with varied groans from it to look back around.

A third dropped down from the rafter, landing in a crouch. He turned his head up, shaking his head as his left hand tucked behind the cape falling behind him to settle on the floor and he put the bo-staff he'd been fighting away.

"You guys okay?" Robin asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"You're going to get us _killed_!" Impulse whined, rubbing venomously at his shoulder.

"No! They'll be done as soon as I…" Superboy began.

"_We know_," The other two shouted, well accustomed to their friends rants about his powers. Robin couldn't help but think it must be written in his genetics, or at least the clone boy definitely got the gene from Superman for it…

He threw himself into a backflip, hands pushing off the ground as he was halfway through it, pushing himself straight, twisting in the air and landing on the shoulders of one of the gang members, three smoke bombs being thrown down on the floor.

The air around them bust into smoke and Robin threw his arm up, clicking the release, cord shooting out of his device and yanking him up to the rafters where it had attached. As planned, Superboy had flown Impulse up to the rafters and Robin let out a breath finally as they saw the people they were fighting with scrambling below, letting out shots.

"Maaaaybe we should leave now guys, huh?" Impulse said, looking down, making a face as the guns started going…

"No!" Kon shouted starting to turn to get back down in the brawl. Robin looked at the others, trying to make the right call… they had started this, or more like it… they'd been going to just see a movie and Kon got in a fight with somebody over their place in line and suddenly they were in the middle of two over powerful gangs rivalry, with two of the town's worst psycho's leading the ways, paving it with blood.

Robin looked over them, Bart's side was hurt from Kon being thrown into him and his wrist had something wrong with it after the tussle with the king cobra over there… of course Kon felt he could keep going… but there was all of their safety to look after.

"Superboy, we have to re-group, they already got away anyways," He tried explaining, though logic and Kon didn't usually go hand in hand. But there was no point now… he'd only stayed as long because who knew when those two superpowers would be in the same place and have three superheroes' thrown into the middle of a business deal, capable of maybe capturing them.

But that ended with Kon collapsing half the building and making them scatter… now they were just dealing with grunts and Robin couldn't have anybody getting hurt. He jumped over to the next rafter Kon was already headed near, reaching out to grab his friend's shoulder with his good hand.

"They're already gone… let's get out of here while we still can," He implored, waiting for a moment as Kon looked like he was deciding what he wanted to do. But he saw sense and nodded, turning back around to grab Bart's arm and fly him up out of the half destroyed building as Robin shot a line up over his head, leading out of the building.

...

Tim walked further into the cave, looking around as he stepped over towards the computer, holding his wrist to his chest tenderly. It had been quite the ride on his bike without his right hand, it wouldn't have been if it hadn't been for the snow… but it turned out alright, nothing to complain about.

He looked up as he saw Alfred take the last step of the stairs, shaking his head at Tim already.

"What is it this time Master Tim?" Alfred prompted, raising one of his greying eyebrows. "Broken leg? Contracted a deadly alien virus? Dehydration? Or perhaps a return from the pits of the dead?"

"No," Tim chuckled lightly. "I just sprained my wrist."

"Oh well that _is_ do-able."

"Thanks Al…" Tim said, grinning up through the hair that had fallen in his eyes at the elderly man.

"Not at all, lad," Alfred said with a soft smile as he wrapped Tim's wrist up properly. He didn't really know what they'd all do without Al around… "Now, don't put too much pressure on it."

"I won't," He assured him, jumping up off the table as he flexed his arm to get used to the bandaging before giving Alfred a wave, double timing it up to the staircase. He had a date to get to…

"Be back for dinner Master Tim!"

Tim turned around, holding his hand up above his shoulders in a shrug as he walked backwards momentarily.

"I'm taking Steph out tonight, Al," He said with a slight frown. Alfred only chuckled and waved him on with both hands. With that approval Tim turned around and bet it upstairs to get cleaned up and throw some clothes on. He was so going to be late…


	20. Chapter 20

_Author's Note- I know I said I'd be doing more of Tim before the Titans... but I couldn't resist this one, so it had to happen!_

* * *

_Your character plays a prank. What type of prank was it? Did it work? How did others react to it?_

"Titans Go!" Robin shouted, the four people around him, jumping into action along with him. They all jumped into their own ways out. Cyborg and Raven got in the car and Beast-Boy and Starfire started off towards the city in the skies.

Robin jumped onto his bike, kicking it to life before revving out and towards the trouble they'd gotten a call about. He was pushing any speed he should be on a day it had rained in the morning, but there wasn't much news or coverage they could find on what happened. Robin just happened to have the Titan's frequency hooked up to 911 calls as well as police transmission, plus their usual scanning's.

This one was a 911 call and someone was screaming about the Teen Titans, so it seemed urgent. Robin twisted his bike around and hooked a U-turn so he could get through an alleyway and towards the questionable area they'd been called. He dodged between two sets of trash cans and bounced his bike up on its back wheel as he pushed through the end of the alleyway, landing with the squeal of brakes into the proper lane of traffic.

Robin paused only for a moment so he wouldn't skid before kicking it into gear again, hand twisting as he shot forward. What he had warned the Titan's about… was that it looked like a trap. There just wasn't enough information and it lacked any real information coming from the background of the phone.

But trap or not, the Titans had a duty to respond to it. He'd rather it was them going into a trap than the local authorities.

He skidded to a stop in front of the building, looking around as he saw Starfire headed toward the ground, the green blob behind her was probably BeastBoy just behind. He reached his hand towards his utility belt, wrapping a hand around it carefully as he motioned to the two behind him to be quiet; walking towards the large office building that was their new target.

They three had started had been about to enter when Cy's car pulled to a stop a few feet away, Raven and Cyborg jumping out of it and heading towards them. Robin looked over to Raven and then the door, he caught her nodding in her peripheral and with a muttered phrase the doors were covered in a black fog and then pulled open, not off the hinges, but bits of the lock that had been there pinged along their feet as they rushed into the building.

They almost thought it was upstairs, but Robin caught the edges of two shadow flickering down a hallway.

"Cyborg! This way," He called out to the only one of his teammates he could see, before rushing towards the other side of the main lobby to launch down the hallway and catch up with the shadows he'd seen. He could Cyborg behind him and he jerked to a halt suddenly in the hallway, looking forward as he could see one of the figures down the hall.

"Keep on that one!" He called to Cyborg, who gave him a look before running after whoever it was. Robin's head turned up, a slight smirk coming over his face. Apparently one of them thought they could get away through the vents. He could see a piece of cloth tying the vent up instead of its clips, located only on the outside.

Robin flicked a wrist, a birdarang sliding out into his wrist as he reached up, cutting the cloth before pulling himself up into the ventilation. He looked around quickly for anybody and then crawled up into it. He couldn't hear anything so he leaned his head down towards the bottom, setting his ear against it; Robin closed his eyes and listened. Sure enough… he could hear somebody moving not far ahead of him.

He took off in that direction as fast as he could, hand tightening around his weapon as suddenly the shaft started to shake more with his target's quickly fastening speed through the shaft. He turned the corner, catching sight of somebody's foot gave him new vigor and he moved quicker.

As Robin turned the next corner, expecting to get a hit into the face, he found instead, the vent had been kicked out in another place, his chase fleeing from it, if the sudden still and quietness of the shaft he was in gave anything away.

He quickly threw a device down from the shaft, jumping down into the smoke he'd just released. He flipped back away from the opening, where there was surely an ambush, to lean against a wall. Robin waited for the smoke to clear, staring steadily around him for his intruder.

It cleared and he took in a quick breathe as he saw…

"Riddler?" He muttered; staring ahead of him shocked for a moment at someone far from his usual turf. A blast from Cyborg's canon took his attention for a moment and suddenly he saw… Two-Face running into the room, followed by Cyborg… what…

"Halt!" Starfire cried as she and Raven came in from another direction, apparently chasing somebody else. No... Poison Ivy? This… didn't…

Then it all clicked and Robin looked over the three villains, a new dread filling him as he realized… as he took in all the small discrepancies that didn't add up about the three people in the room.

Oh no… no, no, no, no, no, no. They wouldn't. They didn't dare… they were.

Robin looked down quickly to his communicator, tearing it from his belt hastily only to see that… yes… it was April 1st… but it'd been two years, surely…

Maybe he could send them to jail, they could capture the, they did break into a building… or he could pretend he didn't realize the obvious. Play stupid…

But his team didn't understand… or realize, and Raven was slamming one of them into the wall, binding them with her powers and Cyborg was ready to shoot again.

"No, wait!" He called out quickly, hand outstretched towards his team mate.

"Call off your girl, Rob," The Riddler grumbled crankily against the wall, legs struggling uselessly.

"I think it's a good look for you," Poison Ivy spoke up, making Two-Face snicker.

Robin barely stopped facepalming, but he could see his team mates looking towards him, half confused, half still ready for a fight.

"Argh!" The Riddler shouted, finally breaking free of Raven's mental grasp. Or she let go, Robin wasn't sure, he was too busy standing in a partial panic. This just couldn't… they had no reason! It was completely across the country! They didn't even have this kind of money…

"What's wrong Baby bird?" Two-Face cooed, stepping towards him with open arms. "Yauwr not afrwaid are you?"

"Of that cheap outfit?" The Riddler said with a harsh laugh. "Why'd I have to be the Riddler…"

The other Titans were starting to understand and if they hadn't, The Riddler pulling off a fake nose, the hat and a wig, revealing red hair and a slanted red mask, definitely did it.

"It looked convincing," Two-Face nearly pouted; pulling his face off, revealing… oh thank god he left his mask on. Nightwing looked over at him, practically beaming but all Robin could do was glower, even as Babs, sporting one of their masks pulled off her ensemble.

"What are you doing!" He finally managed to get out, in as severe a tone as he could manage at this moment.

"He ran through the vent after me."

"Oh see you got the fun, his girlfriend's got me. Must have been the green."

"Jerk, I got zapped at."

"You mean you punked out."

"Stop!" He shouted, glaring towards the three of them bickering… and…

"April Fools dork," Jason snickered, smirking over at Robin. All he could do was continue to glower.

"Oh, you're not sore are you?" Dick laughed.

"Can it pixie boots," Robin snapped, wishing the retort back in his mouth as he spat it, getting weird looks from his teammates. Though the downfallen glare he got from Dick might have made up for it…

"Oh leave him alone," Barbara laughed lightly, walking over to put an arm around his shoulders.

"Oh, group hug," Dick said cheerily, but Robin ducked out, he was still trying those lame things with her? Or it was just his over-prone attitude on hugging… Wait, no! He wasn't getting involved with this… in fact; maybe he could do damage control. That was better than being involved, damage control.

"Let's go, team," He said firmly to the titans, looking around hopefully at the other four. They didn't seem to be able to figure out what was going on and Cyborg was the one to point almost awkwardly to the half-dressed up… idiots that were currently torturing him.

"We just got here and you wouldn't believe the cash I had to turn up…"

"We don't talk about those things out loud!" Barbara snipped with a roll of her eyes, Dick just looked on, as usual, just getting what happened.

"I thought you said…"

"There he goes," She sighed, pushing them away to turn towards Robin. Dammit…

"Get out!" Robin demanded up over Dick starting into a rant on his usual topics. Robin didn't care right now however Jason illegally obtained money to get here because he wouldn't beg to Bruce. _Tim_ wouldn't so why did he care! He just cared that suddenly Beast Boy and Cyborg were starting to snicker… it could only get worse for him from here…

"I don't see your name on it, you don't own it!"

"It's a _public_ building, _none_ of us owns it!" He said exasperated.

"Well technically you could…"

Tim's eyes bulged behind his mask and he jumped forward to stop Dick from continuing that sentence. He did not almost say that! Robin had to get them out of here… and now.

"Who are these guys?"

The dreaded question was asked, and it was definitely from Raven. Robin could practically hear himself groaning but he held it back and put his head up further.

"It doesn't matter," He said in a stronger tone again, stepping forward to start to push them towards the window. They needed to get out of this building, out of this town, and definitely away from his friends! Robin could think up a hundred thousand less embarrassing things than the three of them.

"I'm surprised they don't know me," Dick said rather dignified, oh this was just going to keep going on if he didn't put a stop to it!

"This gag is lame," Jason announced, which only furthered Tim into pushing them towards the window. He was so caught up in pushing them towards it and trying to get his team to ignore all of it, that he didn't realize the three of them beginning to grin and smirk as he finally got towards the window.

"Go on," He demanded indignantly, he could kill these guys!

"But Babybird…" Dick said with a pout that just angered him further. He pushed Dick towards the window and threw it open, opening his mouth to say it again when he heard a creak. Before Robin could look up or anywhere, two galleons of what felt like oil splashed over him and he was left sputtering the nasty taste out of his mouth, opening his arms up wider to shake it off.

"Oh look at his hair!" Barbara gasped between bouts of laughter.

"Yeah, nice due bro," Jason laughed along and Dick was snorting as he pulled out a capsule and threw it at his feet. Robin went to dodge it, but his feet and the floor under him was covered in it, he only managed to slip, shouting unceremoniously, and landing on the ground with a painful thud, looking up as bird feathers were tossed on him.

"I'm going to kill you!" He yelled angrily, jumping up to lunge at Dick, the three of them scattering around the room as he tried getting at whoever was closest. They were dead! "You're going to wish that cheese had stayed in place!"  
"That's low!" Dick shouted at him and he made a lunge for him but missed by inches, his balance completely off with the slim he was covered in.

"Sorry to greet and run, but I've got an appointment to keep," Jason said with another snicker, opening the window they'd tricked him with. Tim got closer to Barbara with his slicked down oiled gloves and she made an 'eep' before dodging to the window too.

"Yeah, you know how it is with a curfew and all," She said, the mask she was wearing crinkling in a wink as she jumped out, and Dick, of course jumped out just as quickly but pulled his head up for one last taunt.

"We lub yous Babybird," Dick teased, making a face at him. Tim reached into his belt and threw the first thing his hands landed on at his brother's head. It hit him in the face and he let go of the windowsill, but he wasn't worried, rightfully so as he could be seen with the other two swinging away.

He stood for a moment, breathing heavily as he glared out the window heatedly… and then, after two quiet minutes… more laughter started out around him. He turned to look at his fellow teammates, who were all in various stages of laughing at him.

"Think it's funny?" He said, in half a challenge, Beast Boy cried out a yes and he was the first one Robin lunged on successfully, to wipe the stuff on him all over his friends.


	21. Chapter 21

_What or who is your character a fan of? Is it "unrequited" fandom, or has he had some kind of interaction with the object of his attention? What is her most exciting fandom-related experience?_

* * *

"So where are the horses?"

Tim grinned despite himself. They'd been going over these sorts of questions since they left their hangout. Bart just wasn't getting it, but that was part of the reason to take him. He'd never been to a basketball game before, or as it turned out, Baseball, Football, Soccer, or Hockey either. Apparently Badminton though? Tim didn't think that really counted, certainly had never been to one in his life. Golf was probably the only other worse sport.

"They're not that kind of knights, Bart, it's just a name for the team."

"I still think they should have some horses, maybe in the dugout," Bart said excitedly, head turning almost completely over his shoulder as he kept staring at one of the large posters stretching up towards the ceiling of famous players.

"That's baseball," Tim said, smiling as he handed their tickets over. Bart seemed downcast to give up the hold on his when the woman asked for it. Of course his attitude only lasted two seconds before his golden eyes were looking around, grinning again. "There are sidelines in Basketball."

"Wait, I thought this was baseball!" Bart said with an explosive sigh, reaching up to scratch at his hair, looking around at everything all over again.

Tim shook his head lightly before walking through the doors, taking the steps slowly towards their seats. Bart was bouncing on his heels, head pinging around to stare at all the people. He had to keep Bart by his side or he'd be speeding off around the field. Secret identities didn't keep themselves manage and he was cautious enough bringing Bart where people from school could recognize him, sunglasses only did so much.

But he'd wanted to come to this game anyways, it was semi-finals for his home team and Tim was excited himself. Also pretty sure they'd win too, though it would probably come down to fouls… the Gotham Knights were known for playing it a little rough.

Tim's eyes swept over the isle of people starting to fill in with the pre-game music echoing around them, the advertisements blaring over that, and the score board's lights flickered to life. People were coming in now with their drinks and rushing to find their seats, soon the lights would dim and he wouldn't have to worry as much. Bart was excited anyways and that definitely took any focus he had to it.

Tim's caution stayed mostly at bay in the back of his head as he continued to watch Bart getting more and more excitable, mouth moving a mile a minute. It definitely got worse the moment they were sitting and he had nowhere to move.

"Whoo!" Bart screamed as the lights did start to dim and the music shifted. Tim ducked his head as a few people turned to star, keeping most of his face turned towards Bart. He let out another series of excitable whoops as the players ran out onto the field, music shifting twice as the two different teams came in. Of course poor Bart was now getting disgusted looks for cheering for both teams.

"Hey Bart," He said, catching his attention as he raised the tray they'd gotten earlier. Bart's grin turned wide and he reached over with a 'Thanks Rob' that made Tim glance around quickly, glad his friend was now shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth the next second.

The game finally started and Tim leaned forward over his knees more, eyes sweeping over the people on the court carefully. Bart shouted out the wrong terms each time something happened, making Tim stop from his own shouts of 'foul', 'cheap shot' and 'bought off'. Probably worked out well but he joined in perfectly in the roar of Gothamites, pleased with the end of the game as the last basket shot in, horn blowing as the game's count ran out and the score 52-47, Gotham Knights.

Tim pushed through the crowds of people, looking around as everybody started to head out of the stadium.

"Oh! The popcorn!" Bart said with a startled jump. "I'll go get it!" He exclaimed starting to turn.

Tim's hand shot out and grabbed him around the collar of his sweater, yanking Bart backwards and slightly off his feet as he'd begun to shoot off in a run. Bart regained his balance and blinked his widening eyes as he looked over at Tim.

"Keep it slow, Bart," Tim said, looking at him insinuatingly. It took another second but Bart gave him a sheepish look just after. He smiled at his friend and turned back towards the door, glad the moment they hit the stinging, frosty air outside. He could breathe easier as they started down one of the more light streets and towards where they could get a ride back to base.

"So what did you think?" He asked, as soon as he'd gotten Bart past a shifty deal going on down a side street.

"It was great! And amazing!" Bart exclaimed, laughing a bit as he finished the drink he'd managed to hold onto this long. Tim smiled warmly as Bart started to ask him more embarrassedly to go into what had happened and the terms again so he could impress everybody back at YJ headquarters.

It was kind of nice to mix his two lives together sometimes… definitely more fun than keeping them directly separate like he had before. Even better when it worked out for him and nothing ended up going wrong. Tim would have to remember to inconspicuously thank Bruce for it.


	22. Chapter 22

_Your character is superstitious or sentimental about a piece of clothing. What is it? When do they wear it? Why does it mean something to them?_

_He ducked his head down low, back pressed firmly against the bead board of the wall. He began to regulate his breathing and dropped his head back against the wood, waiting. Someone could say perhaps that Tim was being overly cautious, that it was silly of him to regulate his breathingwith a man well in his years._

But Timothy Drake knew better. It was the under cautious ones that got Alfred's wraith. The man may be rather old, but he was just as up to par as the fittest of them if anybody took Tim's opinion into account. There was no doubt in his mind that Al could and would find him.

One of the props of being a eleven year old crime fighting vigilante, though, was that he had the ability to stall and postpone Al finding him until he'd properly taken care of what he needed to. In this case? It was the much dreaded and avoided season of the year, the one having to do entirely with spring cleaning.

Alfred meant business when he went into spring cleaning. Every inch of the enormous mansion (excluding everything under it, because there would definitely be heated bickering over that) was cleaned to an inch of its life, every spoon was polished, every crack free of any dirt, the highest or smallest of furniture was wiped down, even the trim on the _roof_was wiped down and given a new coat of paint. Oh the paint... don't get him started on the _paint_. In fact, Tim wouldn't be surprised if he left a print of himself in the wood.

But, again, he wasn't worried about being caught. Oh, he'd get caught, he'd get caught and given the most severe of looks by the caretaker of everybody who lived with Bruce Wayne, including Bruce himself. It was more than worth it though. Tim had to succeed.

The sharp, orderly footsteps had turned down the previous hallway from what he could hear. Tim pushed away quickly from the wall, relieved to notice it was still it's same old self, not freshly painted with an imprint of Tim's back and sloppy hair. He made it down the hallway and turned into one of the guest rooms as everybody dubbed it. But it was just another rarely used room, in a place too big for the few people who occupied it.

For now it was his escape. Just _going_ to his room wouldn't be enough. Alfred _expected_ that. He'd follow Tim and then head him off, effectively ruining his plans. No, he got Al to follow him and then darted out of sight. Now was phase two, getting **in **his room. How? Any inquiring mind might ask, but Tim had it covered. This guest room was on the right wing of the house and he pushed open the window, cringing as it creaked loudly. He threw his head over his shoulder, but Alfred didn't appear in the doorway to bust him.

He crawled out of it with practiced ease, settling carefully on the ledge. He shifted the screen back into position and then started to climb up the side of the building. All of the perks that went along with his costume and masked identity, weren't with him. But Tim had been running roofs, climbing buildings, and jumping fences long before Bruce was in his life.

Finally, with a glance over the landscape(as an afterthought climbing the side of a billionaire's house might have been a bad idea) he pulled at the screen of his window and slipped inside. He was glad he didn't take to locking it, but who needed to here...

Tim pushed his head back to focus, this was of _far_ more importance. There was a side effect to all the 'great', wonderful cleaning Al went through. Last year he'd been naive, last year he'd been tricked, innocent and confused... _this year_, Tim was ahead of the game. Not too ahead... Al had started unannounced and he was out on patrol. In his excitement for finally being through with his training... he'd forgotten all about Spring's arrival of Al's crazy cleaning sprees. He was also tricked by cookies, but that had _nothing _to do with anything.

What had everything to do with things... was Tim going over to prop a chair up over the doorknob before frantically looking for a hiding place among his mess that Alfred would never look. The roof's weren't moveable here, or the floorboards, the bed was solid and didn't have any holes... damn! He should have used the BatCave... hid them by the side of the giant penny...

Aha! The most obvious place... and also the trickiest. Tim darted over with his prize, jumping up to grab the basket of socks on the top of his shelf. He tore through them, un-balling a pair of socks. He dropped on one the floor and taking up the socks he'd been carrying past Alfred. He balled up _his _sock with the good sock and then repeated it with his other sock.

Tim grinned successfully as he meticulously placed the socks back in the bin, up on the shelf exactly where it had been. He shut the doors quietly and jumped over to the entrance to his room. He removed the desk chair from the door and pulled it back to his desk. He double checked there was no scuff marks and then grabbing up some papers, he dropped down on his bed. It bounced twice and he pulled a pencil from the side of his lamp, pushing some of the clutter around on the nightstand as he did so.

By the time the door opened ten minutes later, revealing none other than Alfred, Tim was busily working away at his homework, nearly finished with his math. He looked up innocently, playing casual...

"Hey Al, what's up?"

The older man studied Tim for a moment and he was determined not to break under the man's pressure. Cops, Batman, and a huge array of people couldn't get Tim... but the look in Al's eyes sometimes, he could undo _anybody_... but he wasn't going to use that power today. Instead he settled Tim with a knowing look and a small smile quirked up onto his face.

"Well played, Master Drake," Alfred said, winking at him before he turned away from the door. Tim grinned widely and punched a fist into the air. The door started to swing back open and Tim scrambled through the air for a moment to regain his balance from his near embarrassing moment. "But you forgot to _shut _the window two floors below."

Tim blinked for a moment, mind darting over his narrow escape earlier and... Al was right. The older man smiled wryly at him once and then shut the door again, leaving Tim with a grin of another sort. Okay... so Alfred got him... _but_ Tim's lucky, life-saving, bullet dodging, _warm_ socks were still here for another year! They'd see about next spring cleaning...


	23. Chapter 23

_Write about attending a class at school where your character can describe what he/she learnt, how long it took him/her to understand it and do it correctly, the mistakes he/she made, any trouble that was created in the class, how he/she felt about the lesson etc._

Tim looked about nervously as Alfred and he waited outside of the principal's office. What could this really be about? Earlier today, a perfectly wonderful Saturday to look forward to… the deadly news came up…

He'd been innocently eating the delicious pancakes, drowning it in more syrup than seemed possible when the phone rang. Normal, right? Of course, but Tim had figured otherwise as Alfred glanced over at him, a frown quirking at his usually neutral or smiling face. Definitely nerve racking, hearing only one half of the conversation.

Al said it was the school and that it was the assistant _principal_ asking to meet with Bruce and Tim. The last two months he thought he'd been doing really great in school! Especially seeing as it wasn't like he'd had a whole lot of schooling in his life in the past few years. Tim had even been excited…

And now this, this something….

His eyes scanned over the plague with the golden embossed name of the principal of the school. Dick hadn't helped… he went into explaining _his_ first trip to the principal's. In fact, he'd been in serious trouble and after he went through the story, and a few nearly like them, he wondered what horrible thing Tim must have done to have his guardian called in…

"The Principal will see you now," The secretary said suddenly. Alfred thanked her and set his hand on Tim's shoulder to guide him in. He was so nervous, and he couldn't imagine what would happen if Bruce hadn't had to go out suddenly to stop a high profiled robbery downtown. Tim might have just died… because it was hard to imagine anything else as he was sat down across from the principal in a plush chair.

"Mr. Pennyworth I presume?"

"Yes, Mr. Wayne gives his sincerest apologies for not being able to make it, but something very important came up."

"Of course, of course," The man said, waving a hand as he too took a seat, though Tim thought he looked slightly disappointed. _Tim_ was happy about it! Probably the only thing he'd ever be happy about again if this went terrible... and after Dick's stories there was no way for it to not go terribly.

"Well, first off," The principal started, dread building up in Tim. "You have a very bright young man on your hands."

A very… wait what? Tim blinked and looked over at Alfred with a raised eyebrow as he chuckled and thanked him. The principal smiled, squishing himself down in his chair almost like a cat trying to get comfortable on a fence.

"Why yes, we're very proud."

"As you should be!" The Principal said enthused, he pulled up a file and pushed it forward on the desk. Tim straightened his back and tilted his head up, trying to see what the writing said. Al had picked it up though and the effort was now useless as he perched reading glasses on his nose and looked it over. Tim leaned back and was resigned to just wait.

"Oh my," Alfred said, nearly aghast. Oh my… oh my what! Had he failed something already? It was only the first semester… was he just unfit for school? Did he offend the wrong person?

"You see the left column?"

"Yes," Alfred said thoughtfully.

Oh this was killing him…

"_That_ is the average scores of an average student in Mr. Drake's in his grade level."

Alfred nodded and Tim caught another column of numbers as the principal handed Alfred a partially blanked out second paper. Looked photocopied… but that was all he could make out. Oh… it… it did sound like he'd failed… but why then say he was bright?

"This is the scores of an average student two years ahead of him."

"Well," Alfred said, voice pitching higher as he held both papers side by side. Tim's lips pressed together and he let out a slight sigh, sitting up again but just finally looking directly at Alfred pressingly. What were they talking about? Was it good or bad!

"You're extremely gifted, Mr. Drake," The principal said as Tim finally was handed the sheets. He looked between both and then double checked the scores… these were his? He was that high? How was that possible… his father hadn't barely let him go to school most days, definitely not that last year… and since then, well Tim had definitely _not_ been in school.

All this time he'd been working hard to not be behind… and he was just so much farther ahead?

"Well what is our next step?" Alfred asked after a moment as Tim set the sheets onto the desk.

"We'll have to arrange some more testing naturally, and get in contact with Mr. Wayne… but I think to be challenged at all, Tim will simply have to be moved up a few grades."

"A _few_," He repeated, blanking slightly. How much was a few exactly? The principal and Alfred both chuckled together and Tim's shoulders dropped slightly. This was… well this was definitely not what he'd expected coming in here!

"Like I said, we'll get the details together later, but we're all very proud of you."

Tim nodded to the principal, but even as Alfred led him out of the room, looking down proudly himself… Tim really wondered how this had even happened. He went to hoping he wouldn't get in some serious trouble for being… horrible at school in general, only to be told he was severely overshooting all his scores…

Wait until Bruce heard this! Oh and Dick… Dick was _so_ going to hear about it after psyching him out so badly.


	24. Chapter 24

_Your character is at the beach and they have an opportunity to go surfing, jet-skiing, or kayaking. Which do they choose and what happens once they get started?_

He'd slowly begun to tune out the garble of the people around him, focusing only on the sound of water splashing hard against the shore in repeated waves and the sun beating down on his bare skin. Tim wasn't sure the last time he'd just laid around. Gotham had been so busy, and not in its usual hustle and bustle way, but in the 'psychotic break out of Arkham and rounding up a bunch of psychopath's' sort of way.

None of that mattered though, as he relaxed against the dozen beads of sand sticking to his back. He'd been messing around in the water earlier with everybody, cooling off from the heat of the day, and the sand was covering his lower legs by the time he got this far from the water. There was sure to be more later too…

"Oof," He awoke with a start as he felt something knocking the breath out of him. Tim's hand jutted out to defend himself, but his wrist was caught and shoved back towards his chest. He'd sit up, but somebody was sitting on him, and as Tim's mind sharpened to focus, he realized it was just Dick. "Oh, get offa me, you're heavy."

"Heavy? I'm not heavy…"

"Get _off_," Tim insisted, pushing his of sorts, adopted brother off of him and into the sand. Dick seemed mostly un-phased and just sat up, running a hand through his hair slowly a few times before shaking it out. "What was that for?" He asked, running a hand over his face.

"You need to come with me."

"What for!" He asked exasperatedly. Not because of Dick's request, but couldn't he just poke Tim, or give his shoulder a shove, just talking to him would have woken him up! But no, Dick dropped down on him instead, leaving his middle slightly sore.

"Alright, it's like this…"

Tim gave him a disgruntled look, but Dick's head was already turned towards the shoreline, arm reaching up to point out the waves. This wasn't going to be good… at least no to Tim, he could _already_ tell. It was that tone of voice alone…

"There's these two babes…"

"I knew it," Tim grunted, rubbing at his eyes tiredly again. It was always about girls with him, or himself, but those were two separate issues for him.

"Come on, you're gonna like them."

"I _have_ a girlfriend Dick!" He said, raising his hands up in the air a bit. He'd been dating her a year, why did that never seem to sink in for him? Probably it was because the very idea of dating somebody for an entire year was crazy to Dick, who found seven months to be a long haul. Of course they _all_ knew how it ended with Barbara so…

"That doesn't mean you won't enjoy looking Tim," His brother said with a shrug that left Tim shaking his head, before standing up. He'd never get back to enjoying himself if he didn't just go along with whatever craziness Dick had in store for him, and Tim knew it.

"So what's your plan here?" He asked, stretching out his muscles as Dick lead them down to the water. This was bound to be interesting…

"Well they're surfing chicks, and…"

"Have you ever even surfed?" He interrupted, deciding to point out the bad idea this was going to be before it even started. Didn't want to be a bummer, but he was saving Dick, and himself, a lot of trouble this way.

"No, but I've been on many a trapezes, not to mention my side job, how hard can it be?" Dick asked with a hearty laugh, ignoring anything Tim might say as he walked over to two surfboards he'd thrown on the ground. Yeah… such a genius here… how did he end up in these situations? One, surfing was different than that just because it was on water and the way it shifted was a completely different entity… and two, they could drown! Whatever Dick said, the way back would be a lot longer than it looked, and he knew how Dick got when he was showing off to girls.

"Hey ladies!"

And his point was proven as Dick, of course waved an arm to them, shoved a board in Tim's hand and started out into the water in a run. He hit the water finally, getting on the board and paddling out. He shook his head, but determined he was just staying here for this one. No way was he going out there, besides he'd just gotten dry and this was sure to be doomed to failure, with Dick washing up with the waves, telling him how dumb surfing was and ignoring his injured pride as he was probably laughed at.

Dick had gotten pretty far out, enough to make Tim slightly antsy, and got up on the board himself. As the wave rounded, Dick wiped out. And again and again and again, wave after wave, but he struggled back up on it. Tim had started laughing when he kept glancing over at a rock on the shoreline like that must be the girl's he'd been checking out earlier.

The laughter in his throat died away though as another wave crashed out over Dick. He didn't come up right away… he wasn't coming up. He jumped forward, ankle high in the water to look for Dick, forcing himself not to panic. But after another minute of nothing, Tim let the panic do whatever it pleased, jumping into the water to swim hard out into the ocean, battling against the rough waves.

He'd swum a lot, stupidly, in the river that ran along Gotham when he was a young kid. It was poisoned nearly to the point of no return and he definitely got sick from it a few times when he was younger, but he was used to swimming at least. That was nothing compared to these waves and Tim struggled for who knew how long before he reached Dick's surfboard. He was starting to really panic, out in the middle of the water, eyes scanning for any trace of his brother…

"Dick!" He shouted, spitting out water as it beat into his mouth. "Dick!"

Silence… and then…

"Tim! Gahag, Tim!"

He turned in the water, breathing in deeply as he started off in the direction he heard the slow murmur of Dick's voice over the waves. He found him, bobbing oddly in the water. He was gasping for air and spewing water out.

"Foot," He spluttered and Tim somehow caught it. He inhaled a lung full of air before diving under the water. His eyes stung fiercely as the salt water attacked his eyes and he found Dick's kicking foot. He reached out, moving oddly as he kicked still, but he saw the foothold from the surfboard was wrapped around his leg, and the string was caught on his other foot.

Tim held his breathe tightly, lungs beginning to burn as he finally got one of Dick's feet free of the other string. He pulled himself back up towards the surface, breathing in hard as he broke it.

"Dick?" He asked, still gasping in for breath.

"You got it," He muttered and Tim could see how tired he was from keeping himself up with his arms, but there was nothing he could do but shout for them to head towards the shore. It was starting to look bad as his arms burned more and he put all his focus on the shore he could see, knowing it was either drown or get there…

"Hey, guys," A voice picked up over the waves and suddenly the two girls from before were gliding up next to them, hands extended. One helped Tim on their board, the other Dick and he found himself finally breathing a sigh of relief. For a minute there… it didn't look so good.

"I told you…" He started, trying and failing to hide the utter relief in his voice as he whispered over to Dick on the girl's bored.

"Told me what? Dude, best seats in the house," Dick said in a quiet hush. Tim blinked and then looked over and reached out to shove at Dick on the other surfboard. He really was such an idiot… but just to be on the safe side, he'd leave this story alone when he saw Steph next.


	25. Chapter 25

_Your character either decides or is told that they need to move to a new home. Is this a move that has been planned for a long time, or is it a sudden event? How long did he live at his current home and how does he feel about having to leave it? Is she glad to be moving on or is she going to miss her old home and her old friends?_

The door shutting sharply sounded loud against the reverberating silence in his room. Tim leaned against the door heavily, staring across the room to the window on the opposite wall. It was almost sad to lose the anger that was currently fading from his emotions. It had been warm compared against what was being left in its wake.

Which was almost the usual panic. The sort that came unwilling from the pit in his stomach thinking about what had happened to him in the past few months, since he slipped. Maybe Tim had slipped, but he'd never been disillusioned in thinking that one slip wouldn't get him. His carefree act sometimes... Tim had grown up knowing just what happened to people who slipped in the streets of Gotham City.

Bruce didn't. He felt the realization bring up the unwelcome feelings and the warmth in his eyes. Bruce had bad things happen to him, had seen some of the darkest things being who he was... but he just couldn't understand that Tim did as well. That he wasn't just a clueless kid, because of one accident... a bad one, he knew that, he could admit that... but it wasn't enough to take that away!

Tim had argued as best as he could, with every honest, truthful argument he could have, and Bruce still turned him away. He said no, said it was too dangerous, even if it was just as dangerous for him! But Tim was a kid, Tim couldn't handle it... and he couldn't help but shout in his face about it... he felt bad still... but why should he? After the things Bruce said... about... about what happened to Tim's father, like Bruce wasn't...

He shoved away from the door more angrily, the rise in those feelings taking way any guilt he felt for throwing Jason in his face. But Jason was an idiot... and Tim wasn't. They were different people... and Tim wasn't some kid, despite his age... he could do this.

Not only could he do it... it was all Tim really had. He had everybody here and he had his mask. He had his mantle, his title... he had Robin. He could fight the crime he was always helpless against as a child, he was capable and he could save the people around him instead of watch thugs and crime lords destroy things... Tim could help people never have to be like him or Bruce, or Dick, or any of the unfortunate people Tim had known in his life.

How could Bruce try to strip that from him so easily?

There was nothing Tim could do about it though... because Bruce started all of this and he was in charge of Tim. He had the final say... and he could forcibly keep Tim from doing it... here. The small, half thought started up in the back of his head, but Tim ignored it. He ignored it for solving some problems and trying to sleep it off. To feel differently in the morning, but all the things Bruce had been saying in the last week... had just said in their last argument, were circling around in his mind hauntingly.

By the time the night had passed and it was early in the morning, Tim felt himself getting out of bed, decided. He couldn't do this anymore... and if Tim... if Bruce meant what he'd said, and he had to because he kept saying it, and in his anger the truth came out, well Tim didn't have a home here anyways. He couldn't lose the one thing that made him who he was, being Robin, helping people with his abilities... and he wasn't going to let anybody take it from him either. Especially after what had happened to him... Tim needed his other identity more than ever


	26. Chapter 26

_Your character has to leave their current location. They can only take 5 items with them. What are these items? Why did the charrie choose these? Maybe they have some practical reason, or personal attachments._

He let out a breath as he stood in the ticket booth line. Three people in front of him now, which, that was better than the fourteen when he got here, not counting couples. It seemed like an eternity of waiting, though, and it really was. Each second he jumped internally at everything and anything. He was honestly expecting, and maybe half hoping, that a tall, serious face slipped up next to him and told him to turn back around and get home.

He had to know Tim had left already…

Of course he did. He wasn't the world's greatest detective for nothing. The line moved up and Tim waited as second, stomach jerking slightly as the woman in front of him looked around in her purse only to quickly jump out of line and start running towards the exit. Probably left her wallet in the car, or ID, that always got people…

"Next."

He took one more look around, eyes slowly looking over every face he could see easily in the airport. To see if he might just be standing aside to see what Tim did first. It had been so obvious… he'd been in his room less than three hours after the heated fight between them when he got up and had decided he was leaving. That if Bruce really felt that way…

But Tim wasn't going to think about that… no, he'd promised himself that. It was done, if it was done, and he wasn't going to be caught sulking and brooding over another loss. He'd grabbed the essentials, his lucky socks stowed away, his box of knickknacks from the various people who had been in his life, and the book full of photo's he kept hidden under his bed to remind himself… of what he had.

It felt like what he was losing today, though.

None of that mattered though… because the last thing he'd taken and added to the Gotham Knights duffle bag hanging over his left shoulder was by far the most important. If he didn't have what he'd always thought he had since he was adopted… well, then this was important. His suit. It was tucked away in a special bag they'd designed to get them through airport security without it being seen in the x-rays but raise no alarms either.

Especially after what happened, after everybody he'd lost lately in his life… Tim felt he needed Robin more than ever. He needed that stability; he needed that invulnerability, the righteous cause the mantel stood for. Of course, he thought he needed Bruce too… but it wouldn't be the first time. It could be the last…

"Next!" The lady behind the counter called, snapping her fingers out away from the window at him. He blinked out of his thoughts and stepped forward quickly.

"Where to?" She asked, fingers ready at her computer to pull him up a flight. Tim blinked, realizing in his haste and worry about who would or wouldn't show up… that he'd completely forgotten that key thing. _Where_ to go. Gotham had always been his home, he'd never left it before, not really, not permanently. Where he lived was always here… but there was nowhere in Gotham this would work if not… and he couldn't possibly imagine doing what Dick did… just skipping over a few cities… because Bruce was the one pulling the strings here and he still meant no.

Not that badly, he noted mentally, feeling bitter.

"Where's your flight to?"

"I'm not sure," He admitted, looking over at the woman with a sheepish look. "Something soon."

She seemed to decide to stop being angry with him and let out a huffy sigh. She glanced at the line behind him and then leaned to her left to pull something away from the wall. It probably should be an odd request… but then again, this was Gotham City.

The woman slid a departure schedule through the glass in front of him. Tim smiled to her and looked down, scanning over everything seemed like an impossible task though. What did he know here… he had no idea where he'd want to be. Just that he had to do this…

He took in a breath and decided that if he was going to be picking without thought behind it anyways, he'd leave it up to fate. He shut his eyes and felt a bit silly as he ran his hand over the paper a few times. It stopped when he felt it was right and opened his eyes, looking down at the name.

Tim couldn't help his automatic reaction, that seemed so far away. So different… but he was leaving it to fate right? Yes. He was, and this was the new Tim. He didn't need to think everything through.

"Jump City, California, please," He said as he folded up the pamphlet and slid it back through to her. The woman nodded to him, letting it sit on the counter between them as she started to type it into the computer. His brain halted for a moment as he thought he saw somebody near a chair… but it wasn't who he thought it was.

She went over his information and after Tim paid for it, she printed out and handed him his voucher for the plane. He thanked her and took it, turning around in the line. This was it… the last call… but nobody was here except for Tim… and he was going to have to relearn how to live with that.


	27. Chapter 27

_Everybody is good at something, your character is put to the test. Whatever their strongest attribute or talent is, your character finds themselves in a contest for it! What happens, who are they against? Are they as good a they think they are, or could they learn a thing or two from their competition?_

He glanced to the left, eyes training over everything lining the hallway. Then to the right, repeating the motion. Silent, except for the noise of the dripping water leaking from the sink in the kitchen.

Tim moved out of the doorway, making his way towards the door leading outside. He was home free now, looked like his father was out of the house. Seemed less than normal for this time of day, it was still just barely the afternoon and usually he was just getting up to leave now.

Didn't matter, it just meant he didn't have to be quiet with the door. Of course, he remembered a time, one not very long ago, when it was barely manageable to get out the front door unnoticed. When... Mom was still here. If she were, it'd be her at the sink, the water would be running and dishes would be clacking, yet she'd hear him and his brother trying to leave every time.

Tim shook himself of his reminiscence and slipped out of the doorway and down the stairs into the outdoors and the alleyway outside. He had been working on this for the last two weeks... and it was _hard_. Hard but worth it.

His brother was almost always outside. Out _somewhere_, Tim wasn't sure anymore. Usually he got pop's anger about it for, or whatever it was, he wasn't sure, just knew he got in trouble for Jamie being gone.

So instead of staying home and getting yelled at for him... Tim _followed_ him. He'd gone to meet some guys (Tim couldn't see, only hear, them from behind the dumpster) and then was hanging out with his friends about an hour later. When he'd gotten bored of hiding and watching his friends and him playing some game (you had to make hits to the knees, stomach, elbow, or shoulder to get points, two points to each and you were out) with the hollowed, hard, grey plastic poles an electric company putting in a different line had left unattended, he'd stepped out of his little hiding spot.

Jamie got mad he was here, but when Tim pointed out he could go anywhere he wanted and that nobody was going to stop him, Jamie just said he couldn't stay there because he didn't know the game. At the time, Tim had been going to argue it, because he'd just been _watching_ the game for about an hour with nothing else to do. But he wasn't sure he'd be good at it yet, so he stayed quiet.

Later he went and stole one from their hiding place and started practicing in the alley behind the house. Now, after two weeks, Tim was really good at the game. As good as he could be with his size.

He'd had to find a way to make it smaller, which he did do. It took a lot of work, putting it somewhere he could jump up from the lowest rung of the fire escape. It snapped, but the jagged edge would make the game hurtful, so he had to go through making it smooth by grating it on the side of the bricks.

So after all that work, he really couldn't wait to actually prove to Jamie how good he was. More important, though, he might let him go out with him so Tim didn't have to stay home alone anymore. Or home with their father.

He grabbed the tube he'd hidden against the edge of the cracked sidewalk and hurried to where his brother played the game with his friends. It took what felt like a long time of sitting and staring up at the sky before they started showing up. But they did, just like he'd hoped.

Tim grinned, waiting for them to get ready. Once they were starting to make teams though, he gripped his tube with a quickening heartbeat and a nervous feeling jumping up from his tummy.

He stepped up and around the garbage cans, leaning his head to the left as he watched the boy Jamie was talking to stop talking and frown as he spotted him. Jamie turned his head and looked right at Tim. He smiled a bit nervously, though he tried to tug that down and look normal, even as Jamie's face scrunched up into a mad face. But it wasn't like Pop's, so it never made Tim feel upset like it was probably supposed to.

"What are you doing here?" Jamie snapped, stalking towards him.

"I came to play the game," He said with two nods. Jamie looked at him oddly for a minute, like he didn't understand before glancing at Tim's tube and then back at his face.

"No, you don't know how."

"Yes I do," Tim said proudly, glad he got to say that for once. Jamie started to roll his eyes before stopping, lowering his voice.

"Tim, go _home_."

"Stupid little kids," One of his brother's friends were laughing. They wouldn't laugh if he got a chance to show them!

"Oh, let him try," The only girl here said. Jamie straightened up and gave him a hard glare, one that said he was hearing about this later. All Tim could do was grin, because for some reason, Jamie listened to what the girl said and waved them all off to mutter something.

He walked towards them all, a bounce in his step as he stepped in their circle. He was a lot shorter... a lot, but he could still look up and smile thankfully at the girl. She grinned back and pushed at Jamie's shoulder.

"How do you expect us..."

"Yeah, he's half our size."

"He looks five."

"Guys..." Jamie hissed quietly.

"This sucks."

"Hey kid," One of the boys not complaining to Jamie said, leaning down towards him as he held out his tube. "You can use mine, yours is too short."

"Thanks..." He said with a happy smile, but then shook his head. "Mine works."

"Well alright," The boy said, standing up. He shook his head, but Tim knew he couldn't use the big ones. He'd tried and it was just too big, he couldn't move it well enough. That was why he broke this one. But it was nice of Jamie's friend, he liked his guy.

"Hey, I'll go against him," The same boy said and Tim felt glad he was here now. They just had to see how good he was. That was why he wasn't worried about what they were saying, he looked small, he was younger... but they'd see.

"Kay, thanks Dan," Jamie muttered. He looked embarrassed. It was okay though... he wouldn't be soon. They'd all think he was better too probably! Maybe, he didn't know, but it looked like so much fun, and he'd rather be here than at home.

The nice boy, whose name was Dan, lined up on the marker they'd carved into the sidewalk and Tim ran towards the other, tube across his chest so it wouldn't hit the ground and get sharp.

"Wait, we should check his staff," The girl from before said, staff? Oh, not tube, staff... cool! She leaned down and held her hand out for it. Tim set it proudly in her hand and she looked it over, though he could tell she was only pretending. Why?

"You'll do good, don't listen to those other boys, they don't really mean it."

"I know," He said with a smile at her. She laughed quietly and he grinned more as he took the _staff_ from her.

"You're pretty smart then," She said as she stood up, walking over towards the others. Dan looked not ready when they let it out, and Tim was going to guess that he thought he was just going to go easy on Tim... but he just needed once...

So when it started and he took half a step forward, Tim jumped forward and pulled the tube up arm level to pull it behind his head and yank it forward to tap his knee and then the other. Dan looked down surprised and with a large grin, Tim tucked the staff against his side and slipped between his legs. From behind he hit the left knee from behind and then the other one and then jumped up to tap him in each shoulder. It fell a little short, but it would count... he hoped.

At that point Dan realized what he was doing and turned around, blocking the hit to his knee. Tim grinned, all mismatched and missing teeth, as he looked surprised. Tim made another go for his knee, and he blocked, pushing Tim back.

"Umph," He muttered as he landed on his butt. He didn't wait long, scrambling up, hand still clutching on the staff. See, Tim was a very good runner. He was good at getting up quick too. They were all going to be stronger to him, he knew that, but the game was about being quick, not strong. You got out if you hit too hard.

He ran around him and Dan followed his movements, trying to keep Tim in front. But he was holding his staff too high, because the other boys were that high, but Tim was shorter. He stopped short and turned at the waist, raising the staff over his head to hit him in the stomach.

Dan dropped his mouth and the pause was enough for Tim to hit him a second time before he pushed Tim's staff away with his hand. It threw Tim forward a bit but he regained his balance before hitting the ground.

The boy tapped his shoulders a few times and Tim did fall forward again. They were very light though and didn't hurt. Shoulders, right... he still had to hit his shoulders once more each. Which meant distracting him because the boy was already catching on that Tim could play the game.

He dodged in and out, toward and away from him. Tim pretended he was picking up coins every now and again, just so he could duck quick enough. Dan still got his shoulders again and tripped his knees in one swift movement that tossed him to the ground. He needed two, Dan needed four.

Tim pushed off the ground, running forward with his head ducked down away from Dan. He wasn't having an easy time getting to Tim's tummy at all, which was great, except that Dan's shoulders were up really high.

As he was running, an idea struck him and he smiled as he tucked the staff under his armpit and climbed up one of the trash cans. He stood up and turned around, and yup... Dan thought he was trapping himself. But Tim was _really_ good at getting out of corners.

Dan walked forward slowly and Tim made out to hit him, Dan blocked with the ends of his tube. A toothy grin showed up on his face as he hit Tim in the tummy, it didn't hurt, still, and he took the chance to jump forward.

Dan let out a noise and backed up, but Tim already had his arm around Dan's shoulder. Even as Dan's hands came up around his side to take him off, he hit both shoulders messily with his staff.

Dan set him down, giving him a look as he shook his head. Tim reached up and put his finger on his nose, still holding the staff.

"What are you doing kid?" Dan asked, Tim smiled.

"I won," He said simply. Dan's big eyebrows made more like squiggles on his face and then it got bigger and Tim laughed a bit before covering his face. He didn't mean to be rude but... well... he told them!

Tim looked over at Jamie whose mouth was open wide. He beamed more. See... he told them. They let him play more too, everybody wanted to try against him too! Jamie was smiling now too...


	28. Chapter 28

_I know not everyone has student aged characters but at some point your character was a student, whether you RPed them as such or not. For this prompt write about anxieties your character may or may not have felt during exams, how well they did or if they did atrociously, where they excelled and where they slipped up._

He stared down, fingers wrapped tightly in his hair as he stared down at the black numbers and letters that seemed to be taunting him from the page below. Tim had assured, begged, and pleaded... and then got what he wanted.

He was half wondering if they'd been right...

_"I really don't think you should go on patrol tonight, Master Tim._

_"What? Why!" He asked, turning his head quickly to look at Alfred. His head swiveled between Alfred and Bruce, trying to figure if they were both in on this. Bruce was looking at Al with one raised eyebrow though. _

_'Oh good,' He thought, Bruce was as confused as Tim was. He hadn't done anything wrong, not slipped up, even ate second helpings at dinner. Alfred should be happy with him!_

_"Why not Alfred?" Bruce asked, catching Alfred's attention as he straightened up from picking up the cups they'd had scattered on the computer mainframe looking through news reports._

_"There are only three days until his final exam," Alfred said and Tim's face fell... oh, no, no this again! "He ought to be studying for them. Failing them..._

_ "I'm not going to fail Al!" Tim said, nodding confidently towards him. He stopped at the look Alfred gave him, the 'don't be so sure look'. Why not though... he was graduating so early, _so_ early. The subjects were easy! What did he have to worry about, he would study! He'd have plenty of time, he already clocked it out earlier in the day before coming down here to help Bruce search for a lead._

_They were investigating it tonight, and Bruce was gonna need him out there._

_"Three days..." Bruce said, and Tim could tell he was thinking._

_"I've been studying for the past month, not to mention learning it all... and I've already broken it down! I'll have plenty of time to study for each section. There really aren't that many review questions, I even made some myself," He said, looking between both of them as he said all this. Alfred was looking very unpleased, but that was probably because Bruce was looking convinced._

_ For once, Tim was _seriously_ siding with Bruce._

_"As long as you're sure you'll make mark," Bruce said, settling him with a serious look._

_"_Very_ sure," He assured his adoptive father. Bruce nodded and Tim sent Alfred's pursed look an apologetic grin before moving over to get changed in his suit..._

Why didn't he listen to Alfred? The leads and the investigation had been busts... and... he was so tired. The lead was a bust, but they ended up breaking up several usual crimes around Gotham. He'd gotten a good kick to the stomach and had started to fallen asleep when they got back.

Only to half jump out of his skin as Alfred knocked on the door. He'd reminded him he had three days and that he expected the set of given review questions done by tomorrow. Which would be fine, no sweat, he could do them tomorrow afternoon...

Only to get a message from Kon, telling him Young Justice was meeting tomorrow... and that Cassie had urgent news... which effectively made tomorrow useless. He had school in the morning, where they were all reviewing other things that he had to do. But knowing Young Justice they'd get into some sort of trouble... so tomorrow was useless for studying.

The questions he made, (just had to open his mouth about them) would take up the day before the exam and the other cramming he had 'forgotten' to mention... which, meant the two hundred questions, forty questions in each of the five sections, plus the essay... **_had_** to me done tonight.

He was so tired now... and if he kept at this rate he was going to be tired all tomorrow, through school and whatever Young Justice cooked up... but he wasn't going to sleep and face Alfred's wrath if it wasn't done...

Being tired now though he was freaking out about the exam. What if Al was right and he did fail! He'd have to go through another whole year of high school and... oh Tim couldn't even think about this!

He started down stubbornly at the questions, grabbing the drink next to him, tilting his head back and drinking the entire thing. It just took concentration... he'd do fine! He was this far... he wasn't failing now. Ninety-three questions done... one-hundred and seven left.


	29. Chapter 29

_Your character takes a walk at midnight. Where does he or she go? What happens (if anything at all)? Why is he or she walking?_

He glanced around the crisp autumn night, practiced feet following along the narrow ledge of a rooftop. It was thick, about the size of one of his feet, with just a little more room. He had no fear of falling from it, besides the fact he had so much practice and jumped off of them most days, he wasn't really thinking about it.

Bruce was out of town and he was on watch for the night. Which wasn't a bad thing, Tim didn't mind patrolling without him sometimes. He preferred the first one obviously, but it wasn't his first time anymore so he wasn't a nervous wreck. Al had really had to help him out there, and of course how his luck worked, Joker decided to show up during the night. But tonight was looking clear and without too much commotion.

All good things.

He pulled out his grappling hook, and firing it, he swung towards another building, coming up a bit high he had to land more heavily on the building than he intended. Tim pulled up around, eyes scanning the city below and around him beneath his mask. All still clear. He pulled his bo-staff out, leaning against it since he figured this was up high enough and usually where most of the smaller crimes happened, it was the best place to watch over things for a little while.

The night ended up being slow, completely dead of any crime. He'd been getting prepared to head to a different sector of the city when a noise behind him had him whipping around, staff arcing around in a circle in front of him as he shifted down into a defensive position.

But with a familiar swirl of a dark purple cloak, Tim slowed the speed of his staff and stood up less tensely. Not that he might not **need** his staff with a girl like Spoiler.

"Fancy meeting you here," She said coyly as she got closer and reached up to tug down her hood. Tim looked her over, shaking his head internally as he breathed in a sigh and set the end of his bo-staff firmly on the ground, moving his arm so he could lean it against the thicker part of it.

"You sure seem surprised," He said, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Oh I _am_," She said, reaching up to lay her fingers over her chest for a minute, batting her eyelashes at him before she hopped up next to him on the ledge of the roof. He looked over at her carefully, glancing down at the street as she did so. "No crime it looks like."

"Yeah, it's being pretty quiet," Tim said thoughtfully, which was why he'd just been about to go. Guess this was what he got for not going quicker... another session of Stephanie Brown persisting they should got on a date... why wouldn't she listen that he had a girlfriend? Maybe she really was just... out trying to fight crime and had listened to him last time.

"So how about we two get out of here?" She said, turning her head to look over her shoulder, blonde ponytail shifting over her shoulder with her as she looked him over obviously.

"I'm on patrol," Tim said, holding back the sigh, maybe he could convince her quickly tonight? Before she got to the part where she was half feeling him up... again. Or kissing him in the middle of bullets flying or... there was a long list with her. It wasn't that Tim thought she was a bad girl or something, but he was dating somebody at school and that was as simple as it was.

Yeah... but getting that into her head didn't seem to work as well as _Tim_ thought it should.

"Well you just did patrol," Stephanie said, walking across the edge like a balance beam, gesturing over the city below them. "So let's go have a little fun instead," She said insinuatingly, turning to face him, leaning forward so she was almost doubled over.

Tim reached out and grabbed her around the shoulders, pulling her forward. Throwing her balance off like that on the ledge of a twenty story building wasn't good! She'd fall, and he'd have to go after her, and while he'd probably get her, it wasn't worth the risk and more likely she'd try to kiss him while he was getting them somewhere safe...

"You afraid I'll fall and you'll have to catch me?" She asked, tugging her shoulders away to do a twirl on the ledge. His eyebrows came up and she walked backwards on it slightly.

"Stephanie!"

"Yes?" She asked sweetly, blinking her eyes at him again.

Tim sighed.

"Aren't you busy?"

"Why? Already hot and bothered?"

His shoulders slumped momentarily before he straightened up and brushed his cape behind him, closing his staff up and sticking it where it belonged on his belt.

"Stephanie, we've talked about this... I'm already seeing somebody..."

"Yeah but what does she have that I don't?" She asked, tilting her head and giving him a n innocent look. Where did she end up looking at that when he first met her she slammed him in the head with a brick? He certainly wasn't falling for it, even if she hadn't really meant it.

"I've really got to get to the other side of the city now," Tim said politely, reaching for his grappling hook as he edged towards the other side of the ledge from her.

"So weird! I was _just_ going in that direction, we can go together," She announced and pulled out a similar device. Tim looked at her for a minute and she just stared at him with the same smile...

Oh... tonight was going to be long... Tim had to stop going out without Bruce.


	30. Chapter 30

_Your character has received/won a million dollars/galleons! How did they come across such riches? Lucky win at the lottery? Inheritance? What does he plan on doing with the money? Does she follow through or does she change her mind instead?_

He looked down at the desk he was seated in front of. There was an odd mixture of anxiety and excitement that seemed to be mingled in his veins, pushing through every bit of his body.

Tim glanced over and up at Bruce next to him, looking cool, calm, and collected in his suit and tie, talking to the woman behind the desk who was readying papers.

It seemed ironic, or at least ridiculous, that he was nervous over this. When he could and did do things that should be ten times as nerve racking and even scary. Nature of the suit. But none of that usually scared him, even if it excited him.

He breathed in a little unevenly, nodding and straightening his voice to answer the general question thrown at him. How did Bruce look so calm? Was he that calm? Tim took a little reassurance in that, that maybe this wasn't a big deal to Bruce.

It really shouldn't be to Tim! They'd already talked about it, probably hundreds of times, they'd already decided on it, Bruce had even sent in some pre-paper work. Tim had even signed that! But that was at home, and it seemed less... real.

At home Alfred would be there with a calm, steadying hand on his shoulder too. Tim was just going to have to suffice with the thought of it.

"And finally, please sign here Mr. Wayne."

Tim's eyes jumped over to the last page, an entirely separate piece at the bottom of a mountain of paperwork. Bruce leaned forward, and looked over at Tim for a split second with a smile before he returned his attention to the paper and wrote his flashy signature on the line.

"Now it's official," She said, pulling the paper back and slipping it effortlessly into a folder. The woman pulled the other stacks to, making quick copies, stapling, rummaging for paperclips... but Tim's mind was stuck in some other parallel to all this. "Congratulations Mr. Wayne," The woman said, standing up, and that was really the moment it all sunk in and the odd, second person sensations he'd been having seemed to disappear.

A smile spread across his face and he stood up, reaching out to take her hand. Tim shook it once... Tim Wayne... he looked up at Bruce quickly and found an unusual smile settled on his mentors... no, father's face.

Alright, that one he was going to need to get used to more. But Bruce just officially adopted him and as he shook hands with the woman and turned around in the office... Tim was filled with joy. He'd been teased relentlessly all week, Dick saying the little baby bird just wanted a more reassured nest, Jason's blunt you're gonna be loaded, and everybody else he could think of...

But none of that matter... because Bruce really had adopted him... and he felt like he had a family again. He did.


	31. Chapter 31

_Your character can't sleep. Why not? And what do they do about it?_

He turned on his side, settling into the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His eyes were closed, head pressed tightly to the pillow and he was desperately trying to get some sleep. _Any_ sleep. It didn't even have to be a full eight hours... jus one hour was sounding like haven right now.

Anything to just get out of his head...

He turned around to face the other side of the bed, dropping his head there tiredly as he fought the blankets starting to get slightly tangled at his feet. Tim kept his eyes closed, despite the full feeling in his head, taunting him that he wasn't going to be getting any sleep.

He let out an angry groan and sat up on his elbows, punching his pillow in a few places before dropping back on it. Like punching it would suddenly give him the magical recipe to sleep...

Tim turned one more time, facing his doorway now, eyes staring over at it blankly in the dark.

He didn't even want to look at what time it was. Because Tim knew he had to be up in the morning, nine at the latest, because he had to get dressed and be out by ten so he could make it an hour early... just in case anybody... needed anything...

Tim sat up entirely now, arm snapping around to fist his hand in the pillow. He let out a frustrated cry and threw it clear across the room, hearing things rattling on top of his dresser where the pillow hit into it.

The things slowed and he was left with silence again. Tim reached up and ran both hands through his already tousled hair. He swallowed and threw the blankets away from him, extracting his feet angrily from the sheets that had wound around him while he turned every which way trying to get a little sleep.

He glanced at the clock. Two in the morning, great... this was why he didn't **_look_** at the clock when he couldn't sleep. Tim decided to go get some fresh air. He grabbed his sweater off the back of the chair, tugging it over his head as he slipped out of his door and down the stairs, walking across the looming, silent halls of Wayne manor.

Why was it so hard to just get a little sleep? That wasn't so much to ask for after a day like today... like the last few days... when a day like tomorrow was coming.

"Master Timothy."

His head shot up and he looked over wearily at Alfred. Why was he up this late? He wasn't sure but he walked over towards him, finding his feet dragging tiredly the more he went.

Tim took the seat Al offered him and wondered where he'd suddenly gotten the tea from it, but he took it gratefully.

"Thanks Al."

"Certainly," He said, setting his hand on Tim's shoulder, he tilted his head back to look at him. "Allow me to put more on."

He nodded, cupping the tea in both hands as Alfred left him in the dining room. Tim looked around the room and then sighed. He hoped he got back soon... or the tea did something to let him sleep. The funeral was soon... and it would be hard enough on its own.

But it was hard to sleep when he kept thinking of his friend instead. It just seemed odd... that Kon was dead. It was going to be so much lonelier without his best friend...

Not that they'd always been such good friends. In fact, at first they didn't get along well, they were complete opposites and most of the time Superboy was suspicious of him. Or looking for some problem to start... it was him, after all, that was the loudest in not trusting him in Young Justice, because he couldn't share his secret identity with them. Which went a far way into him quitting... he couldn't be on a team, much less lead one, that had no faith in him and didn't trust him.

But after that... well they'd sorted out their differences. Eventually they became good friends, they all learned his identity anyways, but it seemed to relax Kon and.. they just got along well. Got in a good fair share of trouble with one another... and a lot of saving each other's backs...

Tim swallowed a little thickly and took a drink of the tea. Tasted like Al's usual...

"Almost done?" Alfred asked, coming up from behind him with a tray of some light snacks and more tea. He set it down next to Tim before settling in a seat.

"No," Tim said, looking at him a bit sheepishly. Not exactly... he'd gotten lost in thought again. A testament to why he couldn't sleep... he couldn't even finish a cup of tea.

"You'll need your rest for tomorrow."

"I know," He sighed, looking down at his tea. "I just can't seem to manage to get there..."

"You will," Alfred said softly, pushing a crumpet towards him on a napkin. Tim took it politely, even if he didn't feel like eating so much...

"At least he went out how he liked..." Tim said, looking away, and... he hadn't wanted to talk about it yet. But it was hard with Alfred sitting there so ready to. What had he said... pretty cool... yeah, definitely the best sort of way... a super going out saving the world...

"There are worst things to be remembered for."

"Yeah," Tim said, sitting quietly as he broke off small bits of the crumpet at a time and ate it, Alfred staying quiet on his less than great table manners for the moment.

Remembered for... yeah... he would be remembered. By a lot of people, despite any faults, he'd been a good person underneath it, and he tried, he was a good friend. He looked down at his clothes... maybe he'd do something in remembrance too...

"Alfred," He started slowly. "Do you think you could help me tailor my suit...?"

"Your suit, Master Timothy?"

"Yeah, I think I want to redesign it," He said thoughtfully, before glancing up at the elderly man. There seemed to be a more understanding light in his eyes and he nodded.

Tim did the same, looking down for a moment in thought before his eyes glanced past Alfred at the time on a clock, another hour had passed. Tim sat up closer to the table and quickly finished the rest of his tea.

He stood before looking to Alfred.

"Thanks Al."

"There's no need for it," Alfred said, standing to give him a short hug. Tim squeezed him back before letting go sheepishly again. Definitely time for sleep... he felt dead on his feet... He rubbed once at his eye before heading out of the doorway, hearing the clatter of china, and making his way back to his room.


	32. Chapter 32

_Everyone has that one difficult customer, client, co-worker, boss... that one person they just want to hex (or strangle). What's the worst moment your character has been irked by them? Do they resist temptation again, or do they finally do something about their frustration, even if it isn't quite as violent as they would have liked?_

It was still weird being in the public's eye. A public super hero, full time, all the time, known by so many people, and not chased by half the cops but being helped and looked to by them. It was almost as odd as having a faint T shaped tower on an island at the disposal of five super powered teenagers... and that he led them

Robin's arms were crossed over his chest as he looked across the room at the usual secretary looking down at her paperwork. It was even freakier to be standing in any usual office, surrounded by people in business suits, dressed up in his uniform and spandex... and it **not** being abnormal to _anybody_ sitting here.

Jump was definitely not what he was used to... and adjusting was a little hard sometimes. Not with the team, that was great, fighting the villains that seemed to pour in, good too... they kept people safe... but this was drastically different than meeting Comish on the top of a skyscraper in the middle of the night...

"The mayor will see you now," The secretary spoke up to him and Robin turned his head to look at her with a nod.

"Thank you," He replied, leaning away from the wall and walking through the doorway. He'd met him three times so far... Once when they all met him and he introduced them and basically laid out some ground rules, sneaking them in with his political smile and welcoming.

A second time over the towers plans, which he again, was annoying Robin by trying to sneak things into it that had nothing to do with it, little rules and wishes and the sort, nearly threats but not quite.

That and about six months ago when he called Robin in for some 'help' but it had felt suspicously more like a check up to him. Six months later... Robin was calling bets it was another 'helpful' session of checking up on them.

He wasn't sure why that rubbed him the wrong way, but it did. It might be the vigilante in him... or it could just be actually annoying. He wasn't very sure.

"Robin of the Teen Titans! A pleasure to be seeing you as always," The mayor said, getting up from around his desk, hand extended and a loose smile on his face.

"Mayor," Robin said, shaking his hand. "What can we do for you?"

"Oh, all in good time m'boy, sit, sit," He said, walking back behind his desk. The Mayor was a short guy, added with his plump set and the grey hair that looked like it might be a wig, Robin thought he seemed pretty jolly looking on a whole. He pulled the smile off well... but, he was a politician, and there was one rule of politicians, that they were never what they acted like.

Robin took the seat he'd been offered, setting his hand over the other and watching him carefully behind his mask. He really had a bad feeling whenever he got called here, like a kid getting sent to the principals office hoping he could convince them out of telling his parents. Except it wasn't school, and a lot more serious, it was his team.

"So how are all of you doing?

"Well," He replied civilly, glad for all those lessons and chances for it now... being who he had been

"Wonderful news, indeed," He said, messing around with things on his desk. "Not _too_ busy, right?" He said with a short little laugh.

"Just as much as you see," He said, feeling a bit more short about it. All he had to do was look at the newspapers, or look out in the street if there was a problem... and this all just made it feel more like checking in, keeping tabs..

"Of course, well it's good to not be too busy, you are all young of course!

Robin looked at him for a moment, contemplating what to do here before he let the frown show on his face and he straightened in his chair more.

"Mayor, are you checking up on us?" Robin finally couldn't help but ask, he didn't like all this under the desk crap, he really didn't. He _could_ do it, but he really didn't like to. Robin couldn't think of a simpler way to get the Mayor to leave them alone either. They didn't owe him any answers and he didn't like giving him the chances to.

"What! No, of course not," He said, chuckling far too forcefully. Robin looked at him evenly and his chuckling finally subsided.

"You're sure?" Robin asked, giving him a look. "You only ever seem to ask a lot of questions when you call me over here."

"Just being polite."

"Alright," He said, looking at the Mayor, who looked back at him with a more serious look than his voice gave away. So they understood each other now hopefully... "If you need help, I'm glad to come... but there are a lot of over people who need our time too."

"Of course," The Mayor said slowly, before it seemed like it all snapped away completely and he stood up completely wonderful and jolly again. "Then I'll stop wasting your time and let you get on with what you all do best."

"Thank you, Mr. Mayor," Robin replied civilly, standing with him and shaking his hand firmly before he turned and left the office. He _really_ hoped that was the end of all these visits and call-ins.


	33. Chapter 33

_Author's Note- _For any who aren't familiar with the Young Justice(I'm talking the comics) here's some names that might get referenced in the prompt and any future ones

Robin-Tim Drake(Duh)

Superboy- Kon(Conner Kent)

Impulse- Bart Allen

Wonder Girl- Cassie Sandsmark

Secret- Greta Hayes

Arrowette- Cissie King-Jones

Empress- Anita Fite

Slow-bo/Li'L Lobo

* * *

_Your character is on the cover of a magazine. What magazine? Why are they on the cover? What does the main article in the magazine say about them? _

He tied the rope tightly before throwing his arms out, jumping downward. His cape followed after him and blanketed his motions as he landed in a low crouch on the sidewalk. Robin's head tilted back up at the two guys hanging upside down from a lamppost with a grin.

He stood up quickly from that though, turning to spot the time... damn!

"You're fine for the rest of the night, right?" He asked, turning towards Batman, feeling antsy already. He looked at him steadily for a moment and then nodded slowly.

"Kay, I'll check back in later," He told him as he started away and back towards his bike, he threw him a thankful look over his shoulder though. It was understanding in a sense... but Tim was really late!

A quick, and almost too short for his liking, bike ride later, Robin was kicking down the stand for his bike and leaning it to rest as he jumped off of it, making his way quickly towards where he knew the rest of the team would be assembled.

This was really killing him lately, all this running. He was busy trying to be there whenever Gotham and Batman needed him and balancing out being on Young Justice again. His responsibilities as Tim Drake seemed to be lesser and lesser unfortunately... but that wasn't thoughts for now. Oh except for Stephanie, of course, and she was _definitely_ still letting him know he was too busy.

But it was supposed to just be a little team, some fooling around time with the guys when Batman was off doing his other things too. But it all just snowballed and Young Justice was a pretty respectable, if not seen as a bunch of teenagers, group... which just meant pulling a lot more hours for him. It wasn't as bad as when he'd been leader, but it still was making him seriously squeak without much sleep some days.

Robin drew in a deep breath as he slowed his pace outside the hallway of where he could hear the familiar voices of his fellow Young Justice team members. Most of his friends too. Well, now, they'd still all been horrible to him, but he understood... it still stung and their timing had been the worst... but he was secretive, not that it was his fault, which he'd explained a dozen times.

It was easier after all that... inter-dimensional thing, now they at least knew his name and he hadn't _technically_ told them himself. Nothing he could do about it! That's what he'd told Bruce. Tim was pretty pleased about it too. What they, and he did mean Kon, never seemed to get was that he never **_wanted_** to keep secrets! He was just forced to because he couldn't just go giving away Bruce's identity too.

He turned into the doorway, smiling a bit as he saw Kon and Cassie on the couch, Secret hovering behind them.

"Hi-" He started, before getting cut off by Kon leaping up into the air, voice loud and riled.

"_You're rich_!"

"Kon!" Cassie shouted.

"I thought it was a secret...?" Bart spoke up, appearing in a sudden blur behind the couch.

"Huh?" He blinked, pulling up a quick, easy smile at them. "What are you guys talking about?" He partially laughed, though he was close to panic mode at the moment if he wasn't acting cool, calm, and collected.

Because he _was_ technically rich, not like that though... but... how would they know that! Bruce would kill him! He hadn't told them... but he'd _think_ Tim had! He'd be really in for it then.

Ugh, they hadn't been sneaking around again had they?! Tim thought they'd gotten past the whole... nobody trusts Robin thing. Was he _ever_ going to be able to just **relax** with his friends for once?

Maybe he was just jumping to conclusions though... they could think he was rich for a million reasons that had nothing to do with being adopted by a billionaire.

"You're rich!" Kon repeated, just as blunt and tactless. He was walking towards the doorway and Tim just gave him a confused look. "And don't try denying it, _Wayne_." Kon said insinuatingly.

Oh... no...

But how did they find that out! How did that _possibly_ happen? Tim hadn't said anything, definitely, there was nothing obvious he knew of...

His answer came quick as Kon had reached him and was thrusting a magazine in his face. It took a minute for him to pull his head back and let his eyes focus. It was then that Tim's stomach dropped out... staring at himself on the cover of a magazine... the special Heirs edition of Forbes...

He blanked... and... Tim told them this was going to turn out horrible!

_"Am I the only one who thinks this is a bad idea?"_

_"Probably," Barbara said lightly, still tweaking with his hair. He looked up at her, making a face. She just rolled her eyes and went back to messing with his hair._

_"I don't want to do this!" He decided to add, maybe that would work... because there were flashes still going on from behind the black stretches of canvas, people rushing in and out of the area._

_There were cords, some big and thick, a few all on their own, covering the floor, and more blocked off sections of the convention center with places to pose for camera's. People were shouting orders all over the place... pure chaos._

_"You _**knew**_ it came with the territory Tim."_

_"Yeah... but..." He said, trying to come up with a good argument... but he felt more like a petulant child... Tim was fine with that too! If it would get him out of this... "It's a bad idea."_

_"Oh it'll be fine," Barb said, grinning at him a bit as she stepped back and then nodded her head at him. "Besides," She smirked_. Oh great. _"Who doesn't want to see that cute face?"_

_"Babs!" He said frustrated. She laughed at him and then turned away to go back towards where Alfred was, great now he was all on his own... which meant those people would be on him again. They'd _already_ interviewed him though! Once with Bruce, and once on his own. _

_That had been easier somehow... at least then he was just answering standard questions he mostly knew the answers too. Though the question from when he was being interviewed solo 'What's it like to be a genius, philanthropic, adopted child to Bruce Wayne?' had been interesting to answer. Why ask him something like that? Tim didn't like this at all... _

_Now they wanted him to get his picture taken! In this horribly stuffy suit. Tim really didn't like suits... at all, ever, never was, never did... never again!_

_"Mr. Wayne, right this way..."_

_He sent a glance behind him, almost pleading with Barbara to speak up sense. But she just held up a thumbs up and winked at him. He glanced over next to her at Al and Bruce... and they were both looking just as amused._

"Okay," Tim said, looking around to the others, trying to keep his head calm and collected. Because as obvious as Kon was being, and Cassie was trying to seem disapproving, all sets of eyes were on him.

"Wait so your not denying it?" Kon asked, slowly lowering the magazine with the picture of him standing there, Bruce just to his right.

"No, of course I'm not," He said, just... going with it. He'd better do some quick thinking though, or Bruce was going to _kill_ him. That didn't seem very fair though. "You guys already know my identity..."

"Not really!" Cassie spoke up, sitting up on the couch, but as soon as he looked over at her she sunk back down already, smiling sheepishly at him.

"_I_ thought your name was _Drake_," Bart stressed, rubbing the top of his head, looking lost. Which meant he was going to have to clear it up, it'd been pretty easy to just conveniently leave out that he had a second last name when they all figured it out. Took care of the giving Bruce away with him problem... which was suddenly back now.

"So you were lying?!" Kon said, following after him on his heels with the magazine as Tim started towards Cassie, Bart, and Greta near the couch. "That was just a different dimension name?"

"I didn't _lie_ Kon," Tim said, looking at him, but he always felt a bit annoyed again. Was anybody ever going to just trust his word? "Tim Drake _is_ my name."

"Not according to this," Kon said, waving it in his face to emphasize his point. Tim reached up to bat it away.

"They're both my name," Tim said, trying to leave it simple.

"How's that?" Greta asked, passing through the couch as she turned to look at him now. Tim looked around at them before sighing, okay, time to just lay it out so they could move on. But he was stalling... trying to think up a good excuse.

"I was adopted, it says right in there..." He waved a hand to the magazine Kon was throwing on the table in front of the couch. "Bruce Wayne adopted me and my name was Drake before that," Tim said, though it was technically still Drake-Wayne... but that seemed too complicated and really not necessary.

"That's cool!" Bart said excitedly, hopping up and down some.

"A _billionaire_ adopted you and you didn't tell me!" Kon said, going for offended now. Now he had to keep talking around the reason why... without getting his friends at him again. So he just shrugged to Kon, as the other boy flopped down on the couch.

"Wait..." Cassie spoke up suddenly and conspiratorially, one finger curled around one held out on her other hand. "So... does that mean it was _Bruce Wayne_ who didn't want you telling us?"

All four heads turned to look right at him and Tim kept his gaze centered on Cassie, who was slowly sitting up and staring at him wide eyed. The real question here? Was Bruce Wayne Batman...

"What?" He said, pausing a moment and then laughing. "Bruce?" He laughed again, and Cassie joined in a bit nervously, and Bart seemed to laugh just because two of them were. "No, _definitely_ not," He said, still in a light tone.

"Then why not tell us?" Kon spoke up, of course the only one to still stick stubbornly to anything he could.

"Because..." He said, this time not needing to lie so much. He hadn't been able to tell them, but he still was sort of worried about them hearing about and knowing... Tim looked down and then smiled up a bit nervously at them. "I didn't want you guys to think of me differently."

There was a pause as they all looked at each other and at him and then Cassie jumped up.

"Awh!" She said, hugging him around the neck. "We wouldn't do that?"

"What I can't believe is that you're that loaded and _still_ wearing that hoddie," Kon laughed instead, and just like that all the tension left the room. Tim passed through by the skin of his teeth... or, well Bruce did.

"What's wrong with my hoodie?" He asked, looking over at Kon more concerned. He liked his hoodie! But Kon was just laughing, Bart joining in again.

"A heartbreaking rags to riches story, an eye for business and dashing good looks," Greta read off wistfully, looking up at him warmly. Tim turned to look over at where she was hovering over the table, hands forming physically to hold the two page spread on him and Bruce.

Tim grimaced a bit. Cassie moved around the table away from him and looked down at the article and the pictures of him in that _awful_ suit. The girls were giggling as they read continued to read out of the article allowed.

"Okay... seriously guys..." Tim said, raising his hands before starting to move forward to take the magazine from them. This was starting to get embarrassing...

"Ha! Look at you in the suit!" Kon let out a belting laugh.

Ugh. Tim knew that had been a bad idea...


	34. Chapter 34

_Author's Note- _Roy Harper is Speedy/Red Arrow/Arsenal and a friend of Dick Greyson and Tim Drake both. Lian is his daughter.

* * *

_Take a famous story – a myth, fairy tale, etc. – and rewrite it with your character in a new time / setting. Make sure and note what story you used for your inspiration._

"Alright, it's bedtime," Tim announced with a smile, which of course got a big, wide-eyed unhappy look from the little girl who was sitting down on the edge of the couch, watching the credits rolling, and the extra music on the movie they'd put in for her after dinner.

"Thank god."

He leaned back so Lian couldn't see him and shot Jason a disapproving look. He shouldn't be saying that in front of her! Besides, it wasn't that bad, he just wasn't good with kids, they made him a little more neurotic than usual, except in this odd worrying way that wasn't usually his 'style'.

Lian looked up, putting on her best three year old puppy dog eyes. "Not yet!" She begged them, clasping her hands and looking up at the three older boys.

"The deal was after the movie it was bedtime." Tim said, pulling at his sleeve as he bent down to get closer to her eye level, her dark head of hair bobbing with her as she followed him with her eyes. "And a deals a deal."

"I know," She said slowly, pouting as she looked down at the ground and kicked her foot half heartedly. Just as Tim thought they'd won without any trouble, her head popped back up and she had this adorable, hopeful look in her eye. "Could we just read a story first! Please!" She asked, clasping her hands together quickly again.

Tim looked at her for a moment, trapped in the adorable, pleading little girl's eyes and about to break when Dick spoke up.

"Now, we said..."

"Oh it's just one Dick," Tim said quickly, and he got a look from Dick as he pulled Tim to his feet and leaned into his ear.

"Whose side are you on?" Dick hissed in his ear.

Tim just shrugged apologetically, grinning a bit.

"Sounds like a yes to me," Jason spoke, causing a squeal from Lian as she jumped away from the couch and ran down the hall and into her room. They three looked at each other and Dick pulled his sweater sleeve back to look at his watch before waving them on.

Grinning a bit, Tim walked towards her room, where she was already sitting on her bed, under her blankets, waiting expectantly. See... this was why he was a 'bad' babysitter. Unless it was really important or involved safety... he just kept bending! But she was such a cute, and surprisingly convincing, three year old!

Dick stood in the doorway and Jason made his way over to the little kid's plastic desk, shuffling through the small books there.[/color]

"Okay, so what do we want... The Pokey little puppy, robin hood..."

"Not a book! A story!" She exclaimed. Jason turned his head, giving the girl a confused look and Dick slapped his hand to his forehead.

"What do you mean?" Tim asked patiently.

"Daddy always tells me a bedtime story he mades up before bed time!"

"Oh, we were thinking..." Tim started, not sure how good of a 'story' they could all come up with... though, what Roy's stories would be... and then she got those big eyes again and he gave in quickly. "It can't be too hard," Tim said over towards his two adoptive brothers.

Jason shrugged, tossing the books carelessly onto the desk and Dick walked over from the doorway. All three settled down in different positions around her small bed and Tim tried to think up a story... well they could just take a fairytale and... tweak it. Then it would be like a 'real story' to her, and they wouldn't have to try to create an entirely new idea, one that would probably then be too complex for her.

"Well..." Tim started, trying to think up one easy one... and not bring up any key indicators it was a classic fairytale. Lian was a very smart little girl, even for three. But Tim doubted Roy was telling sleeping beauty all the time. "A beautiful girl lived in a castle hundreds of years ago...

"What kind of fairytale is that? It's once upon a time..."

"This is a story!" Lian said towards him with a knowing nod. Tim grinned a bit before continuing.

"She lived with her three uncles,"

"Can they be you?" Lian asked and Tim was pretty sure he heard an awh or something close from Dick.

"Of course they are!" Dick said quickly.

"They were ninja uncles," Jason butted in, nodding to her.

"Protecting the girl," Dick said with a nod.

"Anyways," Tim looked over at the two, giving them a look. "The girl had beautiful blonde hair and a voice that..."

"Red head..."

"What?" He asked questioningly, turning to look behind him at Dick.

"She was red head! Get with the story Tim," Dick said nodding at him. Tim gave him a look before giving up. Fine, but they might as well name her _Barbara_ then... Dick was really not so sneaky sometimes... if ever.

"Anyways, the girl lived her life in a forest with her three uncles looking out for her. She made friends with the animals around, and always had her family, and while sometimes lonely, she had a nice life."

"Get on with it, even I'm bored," Jason yawned sarcastically. Tim looked at him for a moment before trying to get back on track.

"But then one day she while wandering into the forest..."

"Are there any sword fights in this story or a fight?"

All three stopped completely, and turned their heads at who was interrupting now... Lian. What? See... he knew whatever stories _Roy_was likely telling her...

And then speak of the devil... the door threw open and he was standing there, sans mask, but you could see his suit underneath the jacket he had nearly zipped up.

"The girl got swept off to a high tower and put to sleep! Then her father showed up from work and," Roy stopped, spinning on his foot slightly to jab falsely at the air. "And beat the dragon and the nasty witch that took her."

Lian clapping and three blank stares were all that interrupted the addition to story time. Roy pulled an arrow out and tossed it towards the corner of the room, staying poised there.

"Then **bang**. He let off an arrow and scaled the side of the building. He crossed the room..." He paused before jumping over towards her bed and picking Lian up swiftly in his arms, pointing at the door. "...scooped her up, woke her, and they zip lined towards the castle she was born in and had a feast!"

"Yay!"Lian giggled, throwing her arms around Roy's neck. "I like your story best Dad."

"What happened to the brothers?"

"Really Dick?"

"Well I was just wondering."

"No wonder she doesn't have a normal bedtime..." Tim muttered as Roy walked out of the room, setting Lian down who ran past him back down the hall. He paused and then turned to Dick with a smirk.

"The uncles got eaten by the dragon. Sorry."

"You can't decide that!" Dick exclaimed, jumping up after his friend.

Tim watched him and then looked at Jason before he just laughed at it all.


	35. Chapter 35

_It's the birthday of one of your character's relatives / friends soon and your character wants to have a little surprise for them. How will he / she prepare for that surprise?_

It was mostly unheard of, and a few years ago it was. Things had gotten better lately though, but even so... one time a year, there was no arguments to gather, even if there was plenty of hate in the matter still.

Even if Dick still huffed, Bruce sighed/scowled, Jason taunted, Barbara rolled her eyes, and Tim sighed... they all still showed up and put their differences aside for a momentary truce whatever the grudge at the time may be and with who or why.

Because there was no other choice but to... usually that was easily argued by one of them. But not for this occasion... not for Alfred's mysterious birthdays. Not that the actual day was a mystery... but nobody, not _even_ Bruce, seemed to know just _how_ old he was... Alfred never told, he never hinted, and he only replied it was rude to ask an old man his age.

"I can bake the cake this year," Barbara said from the left side of the table in the diner they were hiding out in. Alfred was too good... he would know they were up to something and find out what it was if they did it anywhere he might expect them.

That was why Sunny's Fresh Side diner was **perfect** cover. They all snuck here too, all during things that would be very reasonable and normal excuses on his and Bruce's part.

Dick should be in college, Barbara at her job, who knew what Jason did... Bruce was supposed to be in a meeting, and Tim was supposedly at his weekly meeting with YJ. He had taken his suit and changed into civies even.

"Or... we could get one from the ice cream shop?" Dick spoke up, asking for backup as he looked around.

"Yeah... let's do that," Jason said, though he seemed miffed for having to agree... but... well they were discussing Babs and her cooking a cake... one for a master like Al. Tim might have offered to make one, but he couldn't now. Not without hurting her feelings.

"Are you saying something Dick?" She asked, straightening up some and narrowing her eyes.

"No! No, just about the ice cream part..." He said, trying to act smooth with it.

"Yeah, you know Alfred enjoys a light vanilla cream," Tim spoke up, hand raised slightly, seeing the tension rising here. Despite the 'truce' that was always forged for this, it seemed like Bruce and him ended up playing intermediates.

"Onto decorations," Bruce spoke up, writing down the cake on his list. Tim leaned over his shoulder some to look at it, whispering to him that they should specifically ask for the certain kind of cream... because seriously, Alfred took his icing very seriously. The icing made the first appearance after all, or so Al had told him before.

There was a lot of 'discussing' on the issues, but mostly they all squabbled until one idea was mostly set on... as usual, an idea that mostly ended up looking like last years, except just a little bit different. But it went off so well every time... maybe that was just what Al liked. Bruce seemed to think so.

Tim's favorite thing to do was to cook the dinner for him... favorite and the most nerve wracking. Because Alfred almost always made dinner, and Tim helped. But to be the one making it all... well Al would know even if the smallest thing was off! Maybe he wouldn't say anything, or pretend it wasn't, but then it wouldn't be perfect either.

He took the pad from Bruce and pulled his own pen out, scribbling out what he wanted to make for the dinner and what they were going to need to sneak into the house. Al would know if anything turned up missing... he had powers none of them really understood... but it was a bit scary how on top of everything he was.

"So... balloons?" Jason asked, looking around, like always.

"No balloons Jason," Bruce said, shaking his head once. Everyone else shrugged and he narrowed his eyes.

"What just cause you say it that means we don't get any balloons?" He huffed.

"It's for Alfred," Dick said with a slight tsk.

"Well we could have _one_ normal colored balloon, right?" Tim asked, looking around, trying to find a compromise before Bruce and Jason got into it... or Jason and Dick... that would be _worse_. Way worse, because then they'd get going forever and the planning would be even more of a headache later.

"One," Bruce decided, sliding the pad back in front of him to begrudgingly write down the balloon. Jason seemed pretty pleased now too. Well good... they were just about wrapped up here too... they'd designate who did what...

Then in a week they'd have a really great, stress free(he hoped though it was very unlikely) birthday for the great guy who kept them all together the other 364 days of the year.


	36. Chapter 36

_Author's Note-_ This collection of Robin's in one short is in dedication the 'Robin' nobody I know wanted around, who has finally been eliminated.

* * *

_You have to write a prompt based around one-three song, or multiple songs. It can either be about the song, what it reminds you of for that character, or just incorporated in some way.- _I chose incorporated.

Robin blew out a breath and then ran forward, rushing quickly up the incline before he thrust himself off of the ledge, falling a few feet before he tucked his legs and rolled once over the building's top.

Quickly he pushed to his feet and ran around to the other side of the building, reaching into his belt to pull out his bo-staff. He gripped the closed bar in his left hand, spinning around behind the building and focusing on slowing his harsh breathing from running that quickly.

But if they caught wind of him they wouldn't follow, they'd scatter, and he was luring them here...

Which as he closed his eyes to listen for who was around, he realized it had worked out just fine. Harsh voices lowered to a hush were not too far behind him and he could hear the sloppy clatter of the rails from the escape, the steps of boots not far from him now...

He waited until he heard the steps a few feet behind him, making sure he couldn't hear any close enough to start circling the stairwell door on the rooftop that was hiding him. He turned and grabbed ahold of the top of it, throwing himself up and around it, gliding above it to land in the middle of the group of thugs.

Robin's knees half-locked as he landed and took the brunt of the weight there. His finger slipped over the release and the bo sprung out to it's full length as he straightened and swung into an attack to hit the nearest thug before he could even raise his weapon.

They'd been tracking them for a week, making sure who was in the crowd and then they found a meeting place, one that hadn't been ratted out. Batman was still back dealing with the majority, but they'd planned it for Robin to lure out some of the small guys so the big cheeses couldn't escape from Batman.

He stood straight and leaned his shoulders forward, right foot sliding back as he twisted sideways and yanked his bo back from the first guy he'd hit into the one behind him. He twisted it up and around his fingers, flipping his grip and hit the one to his right in the stomach, flicking his wrist to spin the other end into the guys ribs, sending him to the ground.

A swish alerted him to a weapon and he used the man currently falling to push himself up in the air and flip over, spinning as his boot hit the rooftop and he jabbed him directly in the chest, making his arms pause. He jerked the bo to the left and unarmed him before spinning himself to kick him in the shoulder and jerk his steel toed boot into his chin to send him sprawling to the floor.

The first few around him had fallen now and the other two waves were starting to close in...

"I'm bringing sexyback. Yeah. Them other boys don't know how to act."

Tim was thrown for a loop as... a song? started to play around the rooftop. He tightened his grip, mask creasing between his brows as he waited for who was trying to distract him from the attack. But the attackers seemed just as confused.

"Get your sexy on, get your sexy one."

Tim's mask shot up as he realized that the song was accompanied by... a vibrating in his pocket. His phone? No, that was definitely _not_ his phone. The thugs who had been distracted as him lost interest quickly and three of them rushed him. Tim jumped up and grabbed ahold of one's shoulder to use him to swing around and kick him in the face, landing on the ground and catching the staff he'd tossed up.

"If that's your girl, better watch your back."

Uh! Tim ducked low and twisted his footing around before tripping the thug who had originally lunged, throwing him to the ground as he dug in his pocket with his free hand to tug out his phone and stop the ringing. He glanced over the caller ID and... Do you think I'm sexy was calling him?

Tim blanched internally but tried to hit ignore, only finding it picked up.

"I can't believe you were going to hang up on me!"

Dick! He only barely dogged the knife being swung in his direction. What? Well, actually, the ID made sense now, but still! What was going on here?

"Yes, I know, I bet he would have you too."

"I'm busy!" He said into the phone, realizing as he flipped over someone coming at him to hit them in the back of their knees, throwing a birdarang to stop the one trying to get away near the door to the staircase.

There was a click and he was relieved, though he didn't have time to put the phone away as someone got a grip on his bo and he had to grapple with the much stronger man before twisting to his left and bringing his knee up to kick him hard in the wrists.

He let go of Robin's bo and he spin it quickly to get his hold on it before leaping after the guy that was pulling out the gun, dropping a smoke bomb onto the ground as he did so.

"Better hide your wallet because I'm coming up quick to strip your cash."

Oh not again! His phone was vibrating in his hand as he swiped the boy over the guy's knuckles shooting the gun blindly. He kicked his legs out and listened for the gun skidding away. He heard it hit the edge of the building too, probably bounced a bit.

"But see me on the streets and duck... because I just don't give a fuuuck."

He went to press the scree button to ignore it, but again, it picked up.

"Ha! I told you." It was Dick's voice again.

"It was probably an accident, he _likes_ **me**," Jason spoke up... he should have known!

"What are you two doing!" Tim hissed, dropping to the ground as he could hear guns going off with the sudden noise to point at.

"You're going to get him killed! But you think you're smarter than me?"

"Everyone's smarter than you! And it's _your_ fault, this was your idea," Tim gritted his teeth before pulling the phone up to end the call and shove it in his pocket. Why did he have such crazy brothers? Who left them alone in a room?

As he jumped up out of the smoke, cape flying misleadingly behind him, he jumped down in the thick of the thugs again, starting to take them out too.

Tim knew what had happened now... he must have made the serious mistake of leaving his phone unattended. Every time he did it... his contacts ended up having stupid ringtones that apparently they decided were cool that week, and different names. Apparently they'd gone the extra step of switching his settings around and not keeping his phone on silent too. For some bet about if he'd pick up Tim would guess.

Why didn't they know who to get along?

Tim grappled with the last guy and faked him out with a kick only to swing his fist into the soft part under his ribs, making him buckle and then jerked his knee up to hit him in the head. He paused momentarily, looking around at the smoke finally clearing away, breathing in heavily as he checked they were all down and unarmed.

They were and he started to go around to tie them up quickly before they woke up before waiting on Batman to come with the evidence to tie them to the warehouse. From there they'd call the police to pick the whole group up.

As he tied the last restraint and dragged the heavy guy into the middle of the rooftop with the others, and started to walk away to hide into the shadows again, his phone started to vibrate before the ringtone went off.

"Suga Suga how you get so fly? Now I ain't worried about a thing..."

Tim quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket, flipping it open. _That_ ringtone he actually knew and had programmed into his phone himself. The timing though... was just a little too good...

But he was probably being paranoid.

"Hey," He said into the phone, keeping his voice his proper one for the suit as he tucked his bo away again after collapsing it.

"Hey sexy thing."

Tim hung his head slightly, shaking it even as he grinned.

"What's up?"

"I wanted to know if you wanted to go out."

"I'm busy tonight, actually," Tim said regretfully. "But tomorrow?"  
"Nah, it looks like you've got a break right about now."

Tim smirked a bit, he _knew_ it was too well timed for Steph. There she was though, jumping down from the rooftop that was adjacent to this one, hood pulled up on her Spoiler suit.

She strutted over and he smiled, tucking the phone away finally.

"That was quite the show, I bet it was all for me too," Steph said, throwing him a wink and as usual, had no regard for the suit and just kissed him before looking over the guys starting to groan and either start to rouse or falling more into unconsciousness. "So how long until the big bad bat shows up and spoils all my fun?"

"About twenty minutes," He replied, until he got here anyways. Probably call to check in in about fifteen.

"Oh! Lots of time then," Steph winked at him before tugging him down to sit on the edge of the rooftop.

_Songs-_

_Sexyback- Justin Timberlake_

_Just don't give a Fuck- Eminem_

_Suga Suga- Baby Bash_


	37. Chapter 37

_Your character is able to go to the past just for once. What happened there? What did he / she do? Did he / she cause any problem there?_

Robin threw himself backwards, flipping over himself and dropping the smoke bombs as he arched at the highest point. They hit and released just as his feet found the ground again and he spun low on the ground.

Scarecrow's cackling was halted by the smoke and Robin could hear the hits and grunts as Batman must have reached him. He swung back defensively more towards the side, pulling his bo-staff out.

His finger slipped over the release just as he heard a step behind him. His instincts jumped before him and he ducked back down, staff hitting out towards the knee area, someone let out a short yelp.

Robin was already backing up, trying to make sure he could see who was coming up on him, if it was a grunt or something else unknown. It was a good thing he did because somebody he'd never seen before was jumping down where he'd just been.

He took three more steps back, looking him over to try and get a read of what he could do, what he was doing here. It was clear from the monologue Scarecrow was launching into, he'd formed an alliance with whoever this big guy was. He was at least two times the size Tim was, but he didn't bother with it, he only darted to his left and went to hit his weak points with the butt of his bo.

Robin had hit his knees, getting them to buckle, but he'd made a swing even as he fell and the force of it lifted him off of his feet and threw him backwards. Unfortunately, he collided with something a little less hard than the pavement as his head bounced off the back of Batman, both being thrown to the ground from the force of the attack.

Batman glanced at him and Robin nodded back slightly. Then both went into action, Batman setting his hands on the ground, throwing his legs up to knock Scarecrow's weapon from his hands before they both jumped up and switched targets.

Robin was fighting the scarecrow when he heard a more pained grunt than it should have been from Batman. He glanced over, seeing him slumping down from the doorway. He wasn't sure if he was unconscious or not, but he flipped over Scarecrow, knocking his hat off in the process before he kicked him towards the ground from the back.

His next glance had him finding Batman was starting to get up, slowly, and that guy from before was messing with a pyramid shaped box.

"Batman!" Robin shouted out quickly, adrenaline kicking in higher as he saw the guy start to start it, pointing towards Batman. He lunged forward, the only thing he could do in so short a time was to wrap his arms around his head and pull him off balance.

"No you don't," Scarecrow was shouting and suddenly a flush of gas was around them. Robin knew just what it was and quickly clapped his hand over his mouth, making sure not to breath in from his nose as he tried getting away from the area of Scarecrow's fear gas.

He was heading towards Batman, who was coughing, but should be far enough from the gas... though maybe not. They had more to worry about though as suddenly something flooded behind him, but not the gas, instead it seemed more like helicopter headlights. Robin reached Batman and looked at him, silently asking what was going on, Batman grunted once lowly and he nodded. He didn't know...

But a minute later there was a sharp ringing and Tim couldn't see anything and the next moment he could... he found himself looking around at the dark streets of Gotham, in an alleyway of some sort. They were no longer on top of a skyscraper... but Batman was next to him except...

"What's going on?" Tim asked confused, as he looked down, he realized he was in his civvies too... what?

"Not sure," He said slowly, looking around thoughtfully.

They heard the sounds of a quick voice and Tim could pick up someone snapping out an order. He turned his head towards Bruce before starting to run towards the sounds as he heard somebody shouting.

A strong hand clamped around his shoulder, jerking him to a stop. Tim glanced up confused, seeing Bruce looking blankly ahead and shaking his head. Why weren't they doing anything? It sounded like somebody was being mugged... and then... no. One shot, two... and the heavy sounds of somebody running past the alleyway they were in.

"What..." He started again.

"This was the start of the night..." Bruce said, eyes sweeping the ground as he let Tim go ahead some. Tim slowly looked out and... he could see two people lying on the ground. They looked well dressed, definitely on the richer sides of things... and then he realized what was going on... when he saw a little boy running to their sides, and he got a face of the woman.

It wasn't anybody he knew, but it was a face he knew well. He saw it every time they entered the cave, it was the face of Bruce's mother in his parent's portrait...

But he was tugged back again by Bruce and he was starting to see spots in everything... but, of course. This happened years and years ago, when Bruce was just a little boy.

"The gas?" Tim guessed, though his words seemed more caught in his throat than he'd meant them to be. Bruce grunted an affirmative and he could feel himself becoming more aware of their surroundings. Bruce, Batman was already lunging forward again, apparently it wore off first.

Tim didn't even have a chance to do anything. The reminder of what he did this for, apparently, was enough to send Bruce into a heavier fighting style and he had Scarecrow and his friend with the strange device to enhance his gas on the ground and tied up.

Tim couldn't help but think it didn't do him any good...


	38. Chapter 38

_Everyone... well, almost everyone, has them. RP your characters acting with their parents (or someone who they look up to like a parent). It can be a big fight, a moment when your characters realize how much they love a parent/s. It doesn't have to be a happy occasion, but it does have to show what parents mean to your characters. (Ashley note - 3)_

The bickering had been going on for awhile now and Tim found he'd been tuning it out. Unusual for him, even with as frequent as it could be, he was almost always listening or most times trying to intervene before things got out of hand. That's pretty much what anybody could expect from getting Dick and Jason into the same room. It was worse because Barbara or Alfred weren't here to help with it. Just Tim, and they seemed very good at arguing over him sometimes too, so it wasn't much of a help.

Not that he blamed the other two, Barbara had her own to help with, and Alfred was out distracting Bruce. He wasn't sure these two were even really celebrating it themselves, though Tim thought he saw Jason doing something for his own over there before Dick showed up.

He was starting to drift their voices out again though.

But Tim had been looking over what he'd been working on and tapping his pen against the table next to it as he thought over what he'd written. It was simple, but it meant a lot even being simple. In fact... it was kind of perfect in that way. Tim was happy for it being simple, Bruce and him... they just worked. There wasn't usually too many talks, they didn't really go around having in depth conversations on it... it just happened, and that was really part of the charm of it... there was nothing happening that meant he had to think on it.

Instead he could just make out a Father's Day card for Bruce and that was perfectly normal and he didn't need to have any concerns or worries about it. He'd give it to him later, he'd read it, and it'd be nice.

Past Father's Days... the ones before Bruce came to mind when he thought like that though. Not that Tim hadn't tried... he'd tried many times. But whether it was his Father being drunk, too wrapped up in whatever scheme he was pulling, or still grumbling over all the losses he'd had at the tables or a recent bet, Tim's attempts at making a nice Father's Day were ruined nearly every year.

To be fair he remembered one that he'd started to read his card... but it had turned out later he was just looking for a score sheet...

"That doesn't make it okay!" The shout cut through Tim's thoughts and his head turned over towards the other two at the table. Jason shoot up out of his chair with enough speed that it tipped over backwards.

"I can decide what's right or wrong by myself!"

"You can't just decide what is right or wrong. They are set standards!"

"Maybe for a yuppy..."

"Hey guys!" Tim spoke up quickly and loudly, hoping to get their attention before one of them ended up jumping over the table for the other. "How about we..." He paused glancing down at his card for some help or an idea... "Go, get a cake." He finished off, though it sounded like half a question to him.

"A cake? What the hell for?"

"Well..." Good question... "For Bruce!"

"Why?" Dick said, eyebrows coming up.

"Well we could take it off of Alfred's hands that way, for Father's Day and all."

The two boys looked from Tim in different directions and he hoped they had actually listened. Or thought it was a good idea. It was a touchy subject of course... Jason had his own Father, Dick's died and he was in another phase he was upset with Bruce... so maybe there were problems. Just not with him and Bruce. No... they were pretty great and Bruce was always there for him... just like Tim tried to be the same.

"Well why not."

"I can't argue with cake."

"Okay, I'll go get the number," He said, standing up quickly (though he was slightly worried about leaving the two alone...) and taking his card with him to take up the stairs and secret away somewhere until Sunday when he could give it to Bruce...


End file.
